Enough Human Left to Die
by coralvortex
Summary: When Jenny becomes an orphan, she finds companionship from a boy at Wool's. As they grow up together she becomes the only person who can anger Tom and live to tell the tale. Will his possessive tendencies drive them apart before war and death can? / Canon Compliant / [TomxOC]
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Introduction**

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 **AN:** This story was formerly The Saga of Jenny. It has sense been revamped. The first and second chapters have been merged and altered. Thank you for your time.

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 _"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."  
\- J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone -_

* * *

"Are you just going to leave her in her nightgown all day?! It's below freezing, she'll catch her death out here!"

Jenny looked up in time to see a large, gray, wool blanket envelop her. Already feeling cramped in the back seat of the police car, she adjusted herself within the heavy blanket then looked around for the source of this new voice. The three year old's eyes gravitated towards a rather agitated looking woman that was making demands and marching around with an important air. Her voice whistled above the chattering of the policemen and the loud, barking of orders from the firemen. The lady moved back and forth between policemen as she gathered papers. Once she seemed satisfied with the stack accumulated she approached Jenny and the girl was able to get a good look at her for the first time. She was young, younger than Jenny's parents had been.

The woman smiled kindly to the girl and stopped in front of her, leaning on the police car that sheltered the child. "Hi," she said in a baby voice, "what's your name," speaking slowly and clearly for the child.

Jenny screwed up her face and after a second shifted her look into sour, disapproval, "I'm Jenny, why are you talking to me like I'm a baby?"

The woman was floored that this child would register the change in her inflections and questioned her in such an adult manner. She responded back, this time with a normal speaking voice, "My name is Mrs. Cole. You're going to stay with me for a bit while we find someone to look after you."

Mrs. Cole firmly gripping the stack of guardianship paperwork in her left hand and offered her right hand to Jenny. The child promptly latched on and was pulled from her seated position in the car. She was toted to a worn vehicle across the street, feet dragging slightly trying to keep up with Mrs. Coles quick gait.

As Mrs. Cole and Jenny rode to their destination. The child spare one final look to the smoking rubble that once housed her so comfortably and she thought briefly to herself, 'This is not how I imagined Christmas morning would be.'

* * *

As Jenny aged at Wool's orphanage she found Mrs. Cole no longer spoke to her in a reassuring voice, promising that, 'The police are sure to track down some extended family soon'. The promises soon turned to, 'Young girls are always favorites, a family will bring you in soon enough'. Shortly after Mrs. Cole no longer shared any reassurance. Jenny soon found there wasn't anyone even coming to visit with her. She longed for the days that couples would visit and ask what she liked to do with her free time.

Mrs. Cole would never outright tell the children, but she had learned some time ago that children who spent more than a year in the orphanage were no longer desirable. Families would begin the process of finding a child by looking at head shots, then from there ask, 'How long have they been here'. If the caretaker's answer went beyond a year the family would politely as possible, yet awkwardly, move on from that child. She supposed it was the family's assumption that the child was troublesome or defective in some way.

Jenny had been at the orphanage five years. Her most recent birthday had gone unnoticed, she would have cried if it had not slipped her mind as well. Mrs. Cole tried to celebrate birthdays when they happen, but Jenny knew that was mostly for the shiny new kids. She had learned that she wasn't special to anyone and resented the fact. She had grown to expect apathy from adults and disinterest from peers. She kept to herself when she got to the orphanage, initially from the shock of losing her family, then she had been quiet for another reason. All the other kids were weird, or more appropriately she was the only magic person there. Initially it had been alarming, but now it was a simple reality.

Jenny, newly eight, stepped out of her room, quiet as to not disturb her roommate, a nasty little girl who was six. As she move through the dusty tight halls, she glanced out the dirty glass of the windows, that barely did anything to make the hallway feel less claustrophobic. Outside, in the backyard, there was a pale boy crouched down in the grass. The grass was shining with dew in the morning sun, but that wasn't what drew Jenny's eye, it was something the boy was fidgeting with. She couldn't quite make it out, but it looked as if it maybe a rope.

The girl trotted down the creaky, wooden stairs and emerged into the dining area, where a few children were, half awake, shoveling cereal in their mouths. She scanned the small group and found she hadn't bothered learning any of these children's names. She only kept track of the children that stayed for a while, but even then, most that she learned the name of got adopted away.

Jenny turned from the kitchen and pushed open the door, revealing the backyard. The pale boy who had been playing looked up and she recognized him after a moment as Tom Riddle. She had spoken to Tom a few times and only in passing. He had been at the orphanage the longest, since birth, she had been a there the second longest. She supposed it would make sense to ally with him, but most of the other children seemed scared of him. Jenny wasn't friendly enough with the other children to hear the gossip about him and she didn't really care either, she had no want for a friend since she couldn't share her secrets anyway.

She peered into Tom's cupped hands and blinked, he had been playing with a snake. She stared for a moment, the snake was coiled in his palm, flicking it's pink, forked, tongue at her.

She tore her gaze from the creature then spoke to the boy in question, "I thought we weren't allowed out this early," looking expectantly at him.

He scoffed "It doesn't matter what the rules are, we've been here long enough that they shouldn't apply to us."

Jenny hadn't thought Tom knew who she was, but in hindsight figured he was bound to have noticed the only other child that spent so long at Wools.

She licked her lips, then after thinking for a beat, said, "I don't think Mrs. Cole sees it that way."

His face was unreadable and in a steady tone replied, "You're free to go back inside by all means".

Jenny stared down Tom. Yet, before she could say anything in response, the door to the kitchen squeaked open, letting another person into the backyard. Jenny turned her back to Tom to face the new person. It was a rude, 12 year old boy who had been delivered to the orphanage a few weeks ago. She didn't know his name, but had a few run ins with him and disliked everything about him. He was a lanky boy who had already begun developing acne and almost always had a greasy, unwashed baseball cap on his head.

"Look at this, freak one and freak two have gathered for a freak show," the nearly teenaged boy bit.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "Mrs. Cole won't like that you're wandering about outside at this time."

The boy took a large step forward standing toe to toe with Jenny, "You think I'm gonna listen to a little kid?" The boy leaned in, forcing her to look up in order to keep eye contact with the rather tall boy.

She took a small step back vaguely intimidated and sensed that Tom was standing up behind her now. Suddenly, feeling cornered and very small, she did the first thing that came to mind. She shoved the boy with all of her might, hoping to send a message for him to back off. Although, the girl had overestimated her strength and the 12 year old swayed slightly but stayed put for the most part, unfazed. She had only succeeded in angering the boy. He moved back slightly and before she had time to brace he swung his fist into her stomach. Toppling the girl into Tom's chest, who in turn shoved her forward, away from him.

Her stomach ached in pain. She stared darkly at the boy and wished she could make him suffer. The boy was unperturbed by the small eight year old's stare and began moving towards her again. Jenny this time was aware of these movements and reacted. Her anger quickly vanishing and her hands raising in front of her to protect herself from the boy, several things happened at once. She squeezed her eyes shut preparing for an impact and it never came, instead there was a crash as the boy was flung into the fence on the far side of the backyard.

Tom, who had just witnessed these events take place, suddenly reached for the girl's arm and pulled her to the side of the house making distance between them and the noise. He was sure the other children would come and investigate what caused the noise and he didn't want to stick around for Mrs. Cole to accuse him.

Jenny found herself being lead to some shrubbery against the side of the house, far away from the commotion breaking out in the backyard. She was sure she was going to be ostracized by her peers now. Tom would tell Mrs. Cole, and Mrs. Cole was bound to do something! Maybe she would kick her out into the streets or have her arrested. She was in a panic but before she could even begin to beg Tom to not tell, he cut in through her thoughts.

"How did you do that?" He demanded.

She began wringing her hands and in a rush whispered, "I don't know, I just didn't want him to touch me again and I panicked. Please don't tell!" he stared at her hard for a moment, worried about what he was planning to do, she added, "Please, I'll do anything!"

Tom calculated his next move for a moment then bent down and grabbed a dry leaf that had been caught on some twigs. He held the stem of the leave between his index finger and thumb. She was about to ask him what he was doing, but stopped with the words on her tongue when the dry leaf was consumed by fire and crumbled to ash.

Jenny looked at Tom for a moment then said dumbly, "That was how I killed my parents." He had an unreadable look on his face again and she quickly added, "I didn't mean to, I swear. I just wanted to light the candles on the Christmas tree."

After considering her for a moment, he urged her, "Do something else."

Although Jenny knew she probably shouldn't, she decided that he was safe, he had shown her that he was magic too after all. She looked at a rock on the ground, then with as much focus as she could muster, brought the rock floating in the air, eye level with Tom, slightly above her own head. It hovered like a balloon for a minute then plummeted to the ground as her concentration broke. Her eyes snapped over to a figure rounding the corner to the area of the yard they were hidden.

Mrs. Cole paused upon seeing these two normally isolated children socializing with each other. She cleared her throat then said, "Tom, Jenny, you can't be outside this early in the morning. I don't have anyone outside watching you. Please head in now." Jenny quickly nodded and trotted back to the door, Tom following close behind. Mrs. Cole pause for a second then asked the children's fleeing forms, "Colton got hurt, did you happen to see if there was anyone out here talking to him?"

They paused and turned around. Tom was the first to gather his thoughts and said smoothly to Mrs. Cole, "Jenny and I were together the whole time over here, we didn't see anyone."

Jenny put on wide innocent eyes, slightly alarmed that she had hurt him and asked, "Is he going to be alright?"

Mrs. Cole nodded in answer to Jenny's question and simply said, "Elizabeth volunteered to make some pancakes if you'd like any once you're inside."

Tom and Jenny rushed indoors. Jenny's stomach was fluttering with nerves. She almost got herself caught. Her eyes roamed over the back of Tom's head trying to guess what he was thinking as she followed him up the stairs away from the busy kitchen. She decided that she could trust Tom, he had a chance to tell and didn't, he had even provided a cover story. If that boy did tell, it would be his word against both Tom and Jenny's.

Interrupting her revelation Tom stopped suddenly, twisted a door knob, presumably to his room, then grabbed her arm and pulled her in, shutting the door with a click behind him.

He spoke with a sense of urgency, "I want to show you something." He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the snake he had in the backyard. "Can you do this too?" He began making hissing and spitting noises at the snake.

Jenny didn't know what to think, she was quickly becoming sure the only other magical person she has met since her parents death was loopy. "Tom, what on ear—", She was going to ask what on earth he was doing, but before she could finish her sentence the snake, hissed back, seemingly at Tom. Confused, she turned her sentence into, "Is that snake talking to you?" He simply looked at her, wait for more input. She continued hesitantly, "Although that is cool Tom, I can't do that too." The girl look from Tom to the snake, then stuck out a finger to the snake, silently seeing if it would climb on.

He watched at the snake slowly looped its way up her finger, then said, "Why can't you?"

"The question you should be asking is, 'why can you?' Actually."

"Jennifer, don't be difficult."

She looked up from the snake on her hand a said, "My name isn't Jennifer, it's just Jenny. It's not short for anything." Then she turned her attention to the snake, stroking its head lightly.

"My name is just Tom too, not Thomas. I once had a family that visited me and was insistent on calling me Thomas, no matter how many times I corrected them."

She let out a small laugh, "Some of the people who come around here are just horrible. I'm surprise Mrs. Cole lets them get through the front door." Letting a smile play on her lips, eyes still focusing on the snake.

He considered her, then stated "If you'd like you can keep him."

"Huh?"

"The snake. His name is Redan. You can keep him. He likes hanging around me, but I don't want to care for him."

She considered it for a moment, then said "Okay, what do I feed him?"

He let out a small bark of a laugh, "He can feed himself. Just let him outside once a day and then after bit meet him outside again, he'll find you."

With a final sigh she agreed, "Alright, but I don't know where I'll keep him, my roommate is a nosey brat."

Tom looked incredulously at her, as if she should have thought of this already, and simply said, "Scare her." Jenny opened her mouth to protest but he cut in, "I've scared all my roommates and now Mrs. Cole doesn't make me room with anyone anymore."

"But it's not that easy. I don't want her to tell my secret."

"Nobody will believe her and she'll be too scared to tell," then after a few seconds of thinking added, "at least if you do it right."

"Tom," she said softly, voice wavering, "I don't want to be mean. What happened today was a fluke."

He looked hard at her for a moment, trying to read her face, then dismissively said, "If it wasn't for that fluke you would have probably been worst off then he is," Jenny flinched slightly at the reminder she had injured Colton. "You need to establish power over the rest of the kids or they'll just keep walking all over you for the rest of your life."

After deliberating with herself, she realized this would be a battle she wouldn't win, and wasn't sure if she even wanted to win. Jenny whispered conspiringly, "Okay, but what do I do?"

That same night the orphanage a woke to a child's screams, the six year old that shared a room with Jenny had woken up in the middle of the night to find spiders. Dozens of spiders. All of them crawling under her bed sheets, some had even worked their way up and into her hair. Mrs. Cole had been the first on scene, bursting into the room and quickly pulling the six year old from the bed, comforting her and picking spiders off her nightgown. Jenny sat up in bed, wrapped in her own nightgown. Silently relishing in the fact it worked. The other children were leaning into the room pushing through the door frame to catch a look at what caused the panic. She saw within the children, there was Tom. He flashed her a quick, knowing smile.

Mrs. Cole shooed all the children to bed once she had finally calmed down Annabel enough. Annabel had not left her side since the incident and Mrs. Cole thought wearily to herself that it would be a sleepless night. She was certain there would be no convincing Annabel to get back into bed, at least for tonight. Mrs. Cole couldn't help but ponder if this event was linked to Jenny and Tom suddenly becoming friendly, but before she could think too much of it, Annabel tugged her arm and asked if she could be read a book.

Jenny felt slightly guilty for scaring her young roommate, but she also savored the idea of never having to share a room again. Jenny listened for movement in the hallway and once she was certain no one was up, she reached under her bed and removed a shoebox from its hiding spot. Gingerly she placed it on her bed and removed the lid.

Redan slithered hurriedly over the edge of the box and on to the girls bed. Moving quickly he wrapped himself around her wrist and stayed put. Jenny believed she understood that the snake wanted. The girl crawled off her bed and removed herself for the bedroom. Tip toeing down the hall Jenny found Tom's room. Or at least she hoped it was. She silently turned the knob and inched the door open. She jumped back and nearly screamed when she peered in and saw a figure on the bed, sitting up, staring back at her. Fear melted away as soon at it had come when she recognized the figure to be Tom. She hurried into his room and shut the door behind her.

She sat criss cross on his bed, smiling at him like they were old friends. Leaning her head back against the wall she let out a relieved breath that she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Tom," she started, breaking the silence, "I'm getting too old for this kind of stress."

He found himself slipping on a comfortable smile, "We're eight. I'd hate to see how stress you are when we're 18!"

Jenny let out a small laugh and lowered her hand allowing the snake to slip on to the bed and over to Tom. The snake made small hisses and spitting sounds at him and he listened intently then hissed something short back and turned his attention on Jenny again.

"Why did you come here tonight?" he asked suddenly, surprising Jenny.

"I don't know. It looked like Redan wanted to visit."

He considered this for a moment, then changed the subject, "You did a good job tonight, but that won't be enough to give you an empty room permanently. You're going to have to do something else, something more." As he said this he let his eyes drift over her face, looking for a reaction. She had become very interested in the bed sheets and was tugging at a loose tread. He yanked the sheets away from her. Forcing her to look up at him. "Jenny, are you listening?" He snapped.

She stared at him with wide eyes. She couldn't think of the words needed to explain her hesitation, she didn't want him to think she was weak. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Tears began to form in her eyes and she whispered harshly to him, "I don't want them to think I'm a freak."

Tom looked at her, his face unreadable as he watched tears pool in her eyes, threatening to fall. Startled by this reaction from the girl he barely knew. He considered his next words carefully. Then coldly he said, "If you don't remember what Colton said we're 'freak one and freak two'. If you haven't noticed you've already been labeled a freak by _them_. It shouldn't matter."

She sniffed, blinking rapidly, trying to dry up her eyes and said, "I suppose you're right." Slightly melancholy that she was given the title freak without having properly earned it. Terrified for the answer to her next question, she bit her lip then asked, "Do you think that's why we haven't got a home?"

She watched Tom, curiously waiting for the boys opinion on this matter. She got her answer when he replied after a beat with, "It's because we're different and they can sense it. But that doesn't matter, because now we have each other."

She gave him a tight smile, still feeling an ache in her chest from Colton's comment. She looked at Tom's face, studying it carefully, then produced a pinky, silently requesting a pinky promise, "Promise that we'll always have each other?"

He looked at the pinky and then back at the girl. After considering the implications of this promise, decided it was really no harm. After all, how hard can keeping this one girl satisfied be? He produced his pinky for her.

* * *

The next morning Tom woke to find Jenny curled in a ball near the foot of his bed. She was sleeping peacefully.

His attention was drawn away from the girls sleeping form by Redan. The snake was coiled on his desk and began speaking to him, "What is it you find so charming about this girl?"

He snapped at the snake, "Idiot, don't you see, she's like me? She can make things happen too."

Redan was unimpressed, "But she can't understand me."

Tom tutted his tongue and mentally agreed with the snake about the inconsistency, "We can make that work for us, even as disappointing as that shortcoming is." Jenny shifted and he watched her waiting to see if she would wake. After she settled he continued, "What do you think of her besides that?"

Redan paused reviewing that previous evening with the girl, "She's powerful, but not strong. She is held back by fear."

"Well, be that as it may, she's proven herself to be useful. When I told her to scare the child with spiders I didn't think she would be able to control that many. Yet, not a single spider seemed to have strayed from the goal." He smiled to himself, remembering the night before. "I couldn't have done it better myself."

Tom stood up from the bed and move towards Redan, then ordered the snake, "Watch her, let me know if she's thinking of tattling on me and keep tabs on who's bothering her."

Redan hissed in agreement then slinked slowly down the desk and into Jenny's nightgown pocket.

Jenny feeling something slide against her, woke from her sleep, shocked to find herself in an unfamiliar room. Sitting up slowly, the night before washed over her and she remembered coming to Tom's room after scaring her roommate. She felt something shift in her pocket, opening it she found Redan twirling around, presumably trying to get comfortable.

The girl looked up and saw Tom shuffling through some books on his desk. "Sorry," she said and he turned to look at her, "I didn't mean to fall asleep in your room."

He allowed a smile to play on his lips, "That's alright. We're in this together right?"

She nodded in agreement. Feeling comfort in the idea of having an ally in the orphanage. Her stomach growled, she hadn't had dinner the night before from the nerves, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

Tom shook his head then said, "How about you get dressed, meet me back here, and we'll go down together?"

She smiled at the idea and agreed, parting ways from him and walking back to her room to get changed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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 **AN:** I'm almost at 10K words so that's exciting. Thank you for all that have stuck with me so far. We're getting close to Hogwarts now, I just want to flesh out their dynamic before we get into because once we're there, there is no turning back. I'd appreciate some reviews, hate, love, anything really, comments or critiques are welcome. Especially grammar/spelling wise as it's been a bit. I work at a call center so my skin is very thick, be ruthless!

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 _The young desired to be free of the adults, and at the same time were prepared to resent any hint that the adults might desire to be free of them._

 _\- A.S. Byatt, The Children's Book -_

* * *

A little over a year had gone by since Mrs. Cole first observed Jenny and Tom interacting. Since that day they were attached at the hip. She never saw one without the other trailing behind. Yet, with this companionship came troubling news. Jenny now seemed to be just as feared as Tom was. Although there had been no other incident with Jenny, like the spiders, Mrs. Cole was having a hard time convincing the other children to room with the girl. After a week, without warning or explanation, all of her roommates would insist on moving out. What was truly troublesome was that she seemed to be just as baffled as Mrs. Cole about these chain of events. But, the caretaker supposed, it could be an act.

Jenny was now nine and felt content at the orphanage. She nearly always had her bedroom all to herself, save for Redan. Tom had quickly become her dearest and only friend. Shortly after their friendship blossomed the children who regularly picked on her didn't want to bug her anymore. She didn't think much of it, assuming that Tom's intimidating aura rubbed off on her and was keeping the rude children at bay. Things were coming together for the young girl. She was happily settled into her friendship with Tom.

Jenny had been combing her hair, just about to retire for the night when there came a knock on the door. She turned from the mirror she had been studying herself in and went to open the door. Her smile quickly dropped when the door revealed Mrs. Cole, rather than the person she had expected, Tom.

Mrs. Cole smiled softly at her and the girl suddenly felt ill. This was not normal. She would not be getting a new roommate at this time of night. "Mrs. Cole, what can I do for you this evening?" she inquired, trying to swallow her nerves.

The caretaker looked around the nearly barren room, fully expecting Tom to be prowling somewhere. When her search turned up empty she was surprised, but put it to the back of her mind, then spoke, "I have some good news!"

Jenny was taken aback, a razor thin smile was automatically pasted onto her face and she recklessly prodded, "What's the good news?"

"This is a little unprecedented, normally there's more warning, but you've been adopted!"

Her ears were ringing, she was sure she had misunderstood, "I'm sorry, I misheard you. What was that?"

"Jenny! You've been adopted!" Mrs. Cole said with a heavy amount of enthusiasm.

She shook her head, slightly pushing the door forward in an attempt to signal to the caretaker this conversation was no longer wanted, "You must have me confused with someone else. I haven't met with anyone interested in adopting me."

Mrs. Cole nodded understandably, "I know, it's a shock, but the man saw your picture today and said an introduction wasn't necessary. He wants to adopt you as soon as possible. You leave in the morning with him." Jenny stood in stunned silence and Mrs. Cole let out a small laugh, "Aren't you excited?! You're going home tomorrow!"

She stared blankly, then her face screwed up in rage, "Well you can tell him no. I'm not going anywhere," and with that she childishly slammed the door. She slid down the door, taking a seat the base. She caught a glimpse of Redan's tail disappearing into a crack in the wall. He was probably off to tell Tom what just happened, she thought dejectedly, bitter the snake didn't hang around and comfort her.

She listened for Mrs. Cole's shoes against the wooden floors, but she hadn't moved. Then came a soft knock and Mrs. Cole spoke from behind the door, empathically saying, "Jenny, I can't tell him no. You know that. He might be your only shot at getting adopted. You can't live at Wool's forever."

She stayed silent. Resenting the fact that the woman who had essentially raised her, was now trying to pawn her off. After a minute Mrs. Cole sighed and said, "You'll be thankful one day. Make sure your stuff is packed by nine tomorrow morning." Then she added, "He lives in town, you'll be able to visit." Finally Jenny heard the shift in weight and moaning of the stairs as Mrs. Cole left.

She got up, looking around her room, it would take less than 10 minutes to gather all her belongings. She let out a sigh of frustration and jumped when her door swung open.

Tom marched in, his face red with anger, "Tell her that you aren't going!"

"I did, Tom," she responded monotone.

"There must be something we can do. They can't make you go!"

"I think it already happened," she said back in a sarcastic tone.

"There must be something we aren't thinking of."

"Well, what do you proposed we do?" she huffed, irritated.

He thought for a moment, then hissed, "We scare him."

She shook her head, about to protest, but Tom cut her off, "Oh, come off your high horse. Don't you get it? What kind of person simply sees a picture and wants to adopt someone?" he paused dramatically, baiting her into considering his rhetorical question. He started in again, harshly, "A _creep,_ that's who."

She considered this. It was odd that he hadn't even wanted to bother getting to know her. "Tom, are you sure you aren't being a bit, I don't know, dramatic? Mrs. Cole said that he lives in town."

He looked sharply at her, still on his tirade, "Oh, I see. You want to leave me here. Don't you?!"

Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head, "Don't be silly, I don't want to leave, you know that. I just don't think it's as big of a deal as your making it out to be."

He looked angrily at her, then turned on the spot and stormed out of the room as quickly as he appeared, slamming the door thunderously behind him.

She frowned and flopped gracelessly onto the bed. She watched as Redan appeared from the crack in the wall and slinked his way over to her. She sat up and with a small, choked sob, asked the snake, "What am I going to do?"

* * *

Jenny and Tom both had a sleepless night. Jenny laid awake wondering what the future would hold. Would he be a nice father? Would her new house be big? Was Tom going to ever speak to her again?

Dawn arrived too fast and she found herself sweeping what little belongings she had into a small bag for transporting. Bag in tow, she trotted down the stairs and found Mrs. Cole standing outside her office, expectantly waiting for her. A smile appeared on the woman's aging face, grateful she didn't have to beg the girl to be present this morning.

Jenny was ushered into the office and sat down in a chair next to a large middle aged man. He cracked a toothy grin at the child, revealing his yellow gob. She hesitantly returned the smile. The adoption process was completed in record time, which, Jenny noted, was lucky because the man's body odor was quickly making the room uninhabitable.

The man, who Jenny learned was named Terry Piper, shook hands with Mrs. Cole, who had been actively avoiding making eye contact with her now. Mr. Piper made quick business of whisking Jenny from the office and towards the door of the orphanage. Her stomach was doing backflips, urgently she looked around, silently begging for Tom to do something or at the very least say goodbye to her. Yet, he was nowhere in sight.

Abandoned, she allowed herself to be guided by Mr. Pipers calloused hand which was resting on the small of her back. The gravel of the driveway crunched under their feet as they approached his truck. It was an old rusted thing and she was surprised that it was able to drive at all. She opened the passenger door and slipped into the car, letting her feet rest among bottles and various discarded items.

Mr. Piper closed the driver side door, now locked in the car with Jenny, a sickly sweet smile smeared onto his face. He produced the key to the car with one hand and place his other hand on her upper thigh. She felt her stomach drop. He turned the ignition and the car coughed and sputtered, but didn't turn on. Her heart was pounding, staring had his hand, willing it off. He attempted to bring the car to life again. She looked up to the orphanage, hoping this was a bad dream, and willed herself to wake up. Then she saw him, Tom, staring down at her from a window. Cutting through this realization, she heard a yelp come from Mr. Piper, presumably out of shock, he squeezed her thigh painfully. She looked over at him and saw that he was staring at a snake that had slithered on to the steering wheel.

She smiled to herself, knowing this was Tom's doing. Embolden by him making the first move, she grabbed the wrist of man, peeling his hand off her thigh. Mr. Piper's looked towards her and she mustered the most hellish look she could and gritted out, "I don't like being touched." Her hand clenching tighter around his wrist.

Mr. Terry's face paled as he tried to wrestle his arm from the unusually powerful nine year old's grip. After a few yanks, he successfully broke free. To his horror, his wrist looked as if it received a rather severe burn, it was already stinging, red, and blistering. The man thoroughly shaken, went to jump out of the car, but the doors wouldn't unlock. More snakes began worming their way out of the cracks and trash, slithering unforgivingly towards the man.

After what must have only been a minute, but what felt like a year for Mr. Piper, the doors popped open, the snakes slithered out, and the car's engine roared to life. The man propelled himself out of the car, almost comically spring like. Jenny, delicately removed herself from the passenger's seat and walked promptly back towards the orphanage. Standing at the doorstep, waiting patiently for the man to collect himself. Once he joined her on the stairs, he began pounding on the door.

Mrs. Cole, swung the door open and to her alarm found Mr. Piper, nearly hyperventilating, more messy and unkempt than he had been merely five minutes ago when she had seen them off. She looked to Jenny and saw the girl's face was blank and impartial, as if the man next to her didn't appear to be grasping on to the last bits of his sanity.

"What's -" Mrs. Cole started, but Mr. Piper cut across.

"I changed my mind. Adoption isn't for me. Keep her."

"Wait, now we can talk this out," Mrs. Cole tried, but he was already crawling back into his truck, "Sir!"

With a thump the truck door slammed shut and he tore away, leaving a faint smell of rubber in the air.

Mrs. Cole, looked at Jenny, arms on her hips, eye brows raised, "What did you do?" She questioned in an accusing tone.

"Some people can't handle parenthood," she deadpanned in a serious tone. Then walked past Mrs. Cole's stunned expression and straight up the stairs to Tom's room.

She tugged his door open and he immediately pulled her by the arm deeper into his room, allowing the door to swing shut on its own. She watched him, who had a feral look in his eyes as he raked over her, looking for any damage.

"I knew it, I knew he was a creep. That filthy animal. He laid his hands on you," he snarled. His hand suddenly went to Jenny skirt, lifting it slightly to revealing the pale skin on her thigh, where the man had grabbed her. His knuckles whitened as his clenched grip on the fabric of the skirt tightened even more. Jenny looked from his hand to the spot on her thigh where a large red and purple bruise was blossoming under her skin.

She watched his expression as she gently rested her hand on his clenched fist, pushing it lightly down, lowering the skirt and covering the bruise. "You were right all along," she agreed. Then nearly whispered, "I should have listened to you."

He scoffed, "You couldn't have changed what happened, that Mrs. Cole," he spat her name. "She should have looked into him more. The hag doesn't even care about our safety." He was pacing now, like a leopard trying to release its energy in a small cage. "It's ridiculous, why don't we have a choice on who adopts us?"

She watched him, as she sat comfortably on his bed. He went on small rants like this from time to time, but on this occasion something seemed to click. He wasn't losing steam during the rant, it was just building up. She watched as he moved his hands along with his words. His thoughts rolling off his tongue angrily.

Snapping her from her thoughts, Tom interrupted himself, mid-rant, rounding on her, "You handled it impressively."

She blinked, "What?"

"You didn't cry. You didn't panic. Hell, you even scared him," he paused replaying the scene in his head, "What did you even do? I can't imagine what you could have said that scared him so much."

She laughed darkly, "I only grabbed his wrist and told him not to touch me - but his wrist looked burned after that." He nodded lost in thought. She tacked on, "The snakes were a nice touch," allowing a small smile to grace her face as she complimented him.

He rolled his eyes, "Don't be too impressed, it took me almost all night to convince all of them."

She laughed at his lackluster response, "Well if our roles were reversed, I'd still be trying to get the first snake on board with me."

He looked darkly at her, "Don't you understand?! Our roles could never be reversed. That creep chose you and now all the other creeps know it's easy to target you."

"If you think getting attacked by snakes and burned is easy, I'd hate to see hard," she quipped back without a second thought.

He frowned at her and crossed his arms, "Easy or not that was too close."

She was going to ask him what was too close, but before she got a chance there was a knock at the door. Tom glanced at Jenny, who had stiffened on his bed, watching the door nervously. He shot her a meaningful look as he approached the door.

With a smooth movement he opened the door, only enough for it too look casual, blocking the guest from seeing the room in full; hiding Jenny from sight.

Mrs. Cole was revealed, looking quite harassed. "Tom, is Jenny with you?"

He look politely up at Mrs. Cole, "Why do you ask?"

Jenny was panic stricken, she was in so much trouble, she just knew it. Mr. Piper had come back with the police, she was going to go to jail. Her feverish thoughts were clouded over as the conversation leaped back into the forefront of her mind.

Mrs. Cole seemed to not be having time for Tom's elusiveness and she pushed the door wider, revealing the room and Jenny, who's face had taken on a rather ill look.

"Jenny, no more games. What happened?"

She was nearly in tears and she looked helplessly from Mrs. Cole to Tom. Tom's mouth was drawn in a thin line and appeared to be holding his tongue from saying something rude. His eyes were coldly staring up at Mrs. Cole who had her full attention on Jenny.

"I'm not sure what happened," the girl whispered, finally catching Tom's eye, silently begging for help.

Catching on, he smoothed things over, "Mrs. Cole, she just lost a chance at having a home. Can't we wait on interrogating her? She's already upset as it is," he quickly slipped a polite smile on top of his firm tone.

Mrs. Cole hesitated, looking from the confrontational boy to the fragile look on the girl's face. With a tsk and a deep sigh, she resigned, "Alright, but if I see a stunt like that again, you better believe you won't get off this easy a second time."

* * *

Jenny was laying in Tom's bed, head in his lap, toying with Redan. He had been reading his book aloud to her, although the plot was escaping her mind at the moment. With a content hum she reached up, pushing his book aside so instead he was looking down at her face.

"I was wondering something."

His eye brows unfurled as his irritation from being interrupted melted into curiosity, "What is that?" Sliding a finger into his place in the book as a bookmark, allowing the novel to rest next to him on the bed, his other hand twisting its way into her hair.

"Why is it that you can talk to snakes and I can't?"

"I guess I'm just special."

She frowned and peered up at him, "Do you think I'm not special at all?"

He considered this then after some thought said, "I don't think we're special in the same way."

She frowned deepened beginning to get frustrated, "We can both make things happen though," clearly not pleased with his reply.

He considered this and said, "Yes, but I can also talk to snakes, making us different," watching her reaction he added, "but the same."

She nodded, seeming satisfied with that conclusion and rose from his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed. Carefully, she placed Redan on the bed and watched for a moment as he moved silkily across the sheets to Tom. Then she moved her hand deliberately towards the skirt she was wearing, hitching it up enough to expose her thigh. Her fingers lightly brushed over the ghost of the bruise that served as a reminder of her daring escape only a week ago.

She poked it, causing a white oval to appear where her finger was, then it faded back to match the rest of the yellow shadow of a hand. "At least it's nearly healed." She noted when she looked up at Tom and saw a dark look in his eyes.

He hummed, seemingly displeased, "If I had it my way he wouldn't have walked away with just a burn," he scooped up Redan with a smooth move of his hand moving the snake into his pocket, then rising from the bed, back to Jenny, he continued, softer, with an edge of malice in his voice, "In fact, he wouldn't have been able to walk away."

Jenny jumped from the bed, following his lead and huffed, "Always with the melodramatics," throwing her hair behind her shoulder.

He moved towards the door ignoring, her teasing, "Are you ready to go?"

She crossed her arms, "I don't see why we have to. I hate these trips."

He rolled his eyes choosing again to ignore the sulking girls comments he persuaded, "It won't be too bad this time. I've thought up a game we can play." She looked at him, feeling uneasy about the way he said 'game'. He smiled wolfishly, "No worries, we both will come out winners in this game."

She sighed and simply said, "I don't want to know."

He nodded tartly and replied, "Just follow my lead."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

 _Be wary of those with overpowering presence. It is usually a one-way street taking away your freedom of choice. Gravity is compelling particularly when it is a Black Hole._

 _\- R.N. Prasher -_

* * *

Jenny was shivering as the cool, unforgiving wind pulled at her thin shirt. The sand was soft under her feet and she felt the mist from the water kiss her cheeks. Pulling her eyes from the rough waves, she looked towards Tom, who was sitting on a fallen tree near the forest line some distance from the beach. He looked bored as well and had taken to conversing with Redan. She took a step towards his direction so she could bug him and ask what he was speaking to their snake about, but the bony frame of another orphan blocked her path.

She recognized this orphan immediately, it was Amy Benson. She was a rather mean girl that had roomed with Jenny briefly over the past year. Amy had asked to move out after a few days. Jenny had assumed this was due to Tom frequent visits to the room. Although unlike the other children, Amy hadn't stopped picking on her, the bullying had almost escalated since their brief rooming together.

"Looks like Tom left his pet unattended," Amy sneered.

She blinked at the girl, wondering briefly if that was supposed to offend her. "Oh, look," she observed humorously, "here comes Dennis to collect his," it was true. Dennis Bishop was Amy's shadow. He was a large boy, one of the older kids, close to Amy's age and considered her to be his girlfriend of some sort, or that was at least what she had gathered from observing them together. Tom had slowly taught her that ignoring her peers was foolish and a waste of resources, so now she meticulously studied each of the children at the orphanage. She learned what made them tick and how to make the winds sway in her favor.

She turned her attention back to Amy, who's face had flushed to a light pink, mumbling something along the lines of, 'I'm not'. She seeming satisfied with the results moved pass the two, retreating to the safety of Tom before they could retaliate or draw her further into an interaction.

Quickly forgetting the encounter, Jenny sat on the ground in front of Tom, watching his expression grow critical as he replied to something Redan said. Looking from the boy to the snake she started growing impatient, it was quickly becoming apparent the conversation was not coming to a close any time soon. Hopping up, she walked towards the forest, stopping at the foot of a tree. She glanced back, mentally measuring the distance they had ventured away from the rest of the group. Mrs. Cole always threatened to take these trips to the beach away if they wandered too far and Jenny had a firm belief that would be a reward, rather than a punishment, although the girl dreaded the idea of being the one responsible for the privilege being revoked. The last thing she needed was more negative attention. Shrugging off the distance specks of her peers, she found a foothold in the tree and began climbing up. Settling near the top, on a thin branch that cracked and creaked threatening to drop her, but had ultimately silenced after she sat and remained still.

She found herself content trying to spot birds and small animals among the nature and allowed her mind to drift. It had been a little over a year since she was almost adopted by that strange and foul man, Mr. Piper. Mrs. Cole had developed a watchful eye and ever growing suspicion for Jenny that had previously only been reserved for Tom ever since the incident. The other children had also changed their attitude towards her. Some had started outright ignoring her while others began behaving increasingly more cruel ever since word traveled around the orphanage about the would-be adoption. Tom had been trying his best to scare the other children away from her, which had worked before, but with his workload increased he was being spread too thin to be effective. The children now would just wait until she was alone and corner her in the halls or after class. After the prolonged abuse from her classmates, she found herself being pushed to fight back more and more or risk collecting bruises. Tom had always been quick to play 'games', as he called them, with the people she'd point out to him that had been unnecessarily cruel to her, but his punishments for them were growing more severe as time continued on. She had since chosen to stay close to him as much as possible; the children wouldn't bug her by his side. She did this out of fear that Tom would begin harming the bullies to a point of no return if she allowed his 'games' to continue as they were.

Jenny was jolted from her thoughts, quite literally when something dense struck her face. Her ears rang and vision blurred, suddenly dizzy, she lost balance and fell backwards out of the tree. She didn't remember hitting the ground, but from the headache and back pain, she gathered she must have landed hard. She sat up, blinked away the spots in her vision, and saw Tom standing wide eyed watching her carefully, further behind him was Amy and Dennis, standing next to a football that lay discarded on the ground. Amy had a small smirk, while Dennis had one hand on the back of his neck and an expression somewhere between concerned and nervous.

Tom was the first to speak, voice steady, "Are you okay?"

She looked at him still dazed, nodded, then said, "I'm fine."

With confirmation that she wasn't critically injured, the look of horror on Tom's face transformed into an impassive mask. There was a small twinkle in his eye and she knew in an instant, the game was beginning. He turned towards the two children hovering behind him.

Before he could say anything, Dennis started in, "I'm so sorry," he looked helplessly from Tom to Jenny, "I miscalculated my toss and it went too far."

Dennis was about to blather on but Tom cut in, over the half-baked apology, "That's alright, she said she's okay." he looked to Jenny now, motioning for her to stand. Head still pounding she stood, feeling her muscles protest and head spin. For a moment his eyes darkened as he watched her wince from the pain, but as fast as it came, it vanished, and he turned back to Dennis and Amy. "She's alright," he said, almost more to himself than to the couple.

She stepped forward, clenching her fist, trying to control the pain and match Tom's uncaring mask. In the most collected voice she could muster, she gritted out, "No harm, no foul." Planting a smile on her face to play into whatever plan Tom had constructed. She normally was opposed to his games, which felt almost like a cruel sport at times, but she knew, regardless of whatever regret Dennis felt now, that the football was intentional, the smirk engrained on Amy's face told her that much.

Tom walked toward Amy and Dennis. He had a growth spurt since they were nine, adding to the intimidating air he was oozing, he towered over Amy and Jenny, nearly matching the older boy, Dennis, in height. Amy was the first to lose confidence as she shuffled closer to Dennis, almost behind him. Tom stopped short of them, picking up the football that lay forgotten and tossed it to Jenny. Who surprised herself by catching it fluidly, feeling in sync with him, she did what she felt was natural and tossed it back. He shot her a playful smile, feeling as though they had just shared an inside joke.

Tom suggested casually, "Want to play some catch?" Not waiting for Amy and Dennis in particular to decide and taking a few steps deeper into the forest. "Follow me, I know a clearing that's perfect for a game of catch."

Jenny saw the two share a look and she supposed they must have felt like there were no other options, as Dennis shrugged, placed his hand on the small of Amy's back, and began following Tom. She quickly followed suit not wanting to be left behind by the group. The trees began to thin and they popped out on a coastline, although there was no longer warm, soft sand, instead there were ugly grey rocks lining the water. Jenny noted this location felt unnervingly isolated, suddenly feeling nervous for the two unwitting orphans. Tom whistled, making her look up, they then locked eyes and he tossed her the ball. She looked at Amy, they locked eyes as well, and she tossed her the ball. They did this for a bit, passing from person to person, Dennis looking more and more nervous as time ticked on. The rhythm broke as Tom caught the ball, went to toss it to Dennis, but it flew pass, flying into a cave that was positioned behind him.

Tom tsked and in an almost rehearsed way said, "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. It must have gotten caught by the wind. Can you fetch it?"

Jenny's stomach was in her toes as she watched Dennis nod reluctantly and walk into the darkened cave. They all stood for a moment, waiting for him to come out, but he didn't. Minutes passed and Amy was the first to break the eerie silence.

"Someone should go check on him," she nearly whispered, voice shaking.

"Why don't you," Tom baited.

Jenny decided to cut in, shooting Tom a look, "How about we all go."

Amy, looking at her with a look of relief and comfort, responded, "I like that idea."

Tom bobbed his head along as if he expected as much, saying, "Ladies first," noncommittally.

Jenny was the first to begin the march to the cave. Amy followed suit, walking side by side with the girl, seemingly finding comfort with this location. Tom lurked behind the two girls following closely. When they reach the mouth of the cave, she felt the strong wind sucking her in, pulling her long hair towards the impossibly dark cave. They all blinked blindly into the depths, willing their eyes to adjust to the inky blackness.

Tom suddenly lurched forward, shoving Amy, tripping, deep into the cave. Jenny jumped from this sudden movement, then winced in pain as her bruised body ached from being tensed. Unsure where this game was going she simply blinked at him, silently, secretly frightened that she didn't hear Amy make any sound. No scream, not even the thump of her body hitting the cave ground, just silence.

Tom, almost feeling the fear rolling off her like waves, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, then suggested, "Why don't you have a seat by the cave," gesturing towards a large stone, "You could use some rest. You did take quite a nasty fall."

She nodded robotically. Not having enough energy to bring herself to argue, suddenly feeling very tired. She shuffled over to the mossy stone and by the time she looked back towards the mouth of the cave, Tom was gone.

* * *

She wasn't sure how long she had sat outside, waiting for Tom to re-emerge from the depths of the cave. Staring blankly at the waves beating against the cold, gray, pebbles, she was aware the water was tinted red, indicating the sun was beginning to set. Mildly, she considered entering the cave and reminding Tom that Mrs. Cole would be expecting them back. These trips always ended at sunset, he surely wouldn't want to be late, least she starts asking questions.

So much time had passed that the headache from hitting the ground had ebbed away and the cool air that was nipping at her fingers had successfully made the tips of them red. Growing impatient, she rose, trying to muster up her courage to enter the cave and hunt down Tom, but before she could make a move to enter she heard footsteps bouncing off the moist stone walls. She paused to listen to them as they grew closer. Inching forward, she blinked into the deep cave trying to make out the shape of the person who approached. Then a person, or rather two people, took shape in front of her, it was a distressed looking Amy accompanied by a tortured looking Dennis. They were running, nearing a sprint, away from whatever was within the cave. She opened her mouth and began to ask them what happened, but Amy let out a yelp and Dennis scrambled away, both taking off back in the direction of the beach, where Mrs. Cole was no doubt waiting.

She was standing directly in front of the cave, watching the two disappear into the woods, when Tom's voice rang out next to her, "Sorry to keep you waiting," she turned to see him casually rotating the football in his hands, "It was quite difficult tracking down that football in the dark." He gave her a wide, cheshire smile and she grimaced back.

Feeling an uneasy rock growing in her stomach, she said, "Tom, what if we get into trouble."

A light hearted laugh bubbled from his lips, "For almost losing a ball in the cave?"

She looked sharply at him, frustrated he wasn't taking this seriously, "What if they tell Mrs. Cole what happened?"

His smile slipped from his face and was replaced with a scowl, he set his gaze in the direction Amy and Dennis had ran into the trees, softly he said, "They wouldn't be dumb enough."

She watched him for a moment, debating whether or not to ask what happened, but decided against it, "Mrs. Cole will be mad that it's gotten so late."

He turned and looked at her, studying her face in search of something. Then offering his hand, which she quickly accepted, happily absorbing his heat in an attempt to warm her icy fingers, he began leading them back to the beach, to Mrs. Cole and the other kids.

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry this is a shorter chapter. It just felt like a natural stopping point


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

 **AN:** This story is officially now my longest fanfiction I've published. I'm really excited to get past this chapter. I have tons of ideas that I've been holding on to for later in this fanfiction. Please let me know what you think so far. I was a little nervous about writing someone that makes an appearance in this chapter, so let me know if he was out of character at all.

* * *

 _Everybody is special. Everybody. Everybody is a hero, a lover, a fool, a villain. Everybody. Everybody has their story to tell._

 _\- Alan Moore, V for Vendetta -_

* * *

Tom was sitting, studying a crack on the wall. Jenny watched as his eyebrows crinkled together in thought. She wondered what could be going through his mind. They had been 'grounded' for months. Although Mrs. Cole had no proof they did anything she had held both Tom and Jenny accountable for Amy and Dennis's sudden change in character. She was surprised when the two orphans had been questioned all they said was that they had been in a cave with Tom, nothing more. She wondered if they were blocking out the memories of what happened or if Tom had really spooked them that much.

It had been nearly a year since the visit to the beach and their journey to the cave, although Mrs. Cole was still holding on to it like it was yesterday. For whatever reason this had struck a chord with their caretaker and she wasn't making any plans on letting it go. They were no longer permitted to come with the rest of the orphanage on trips and or on activities outside of the grounds. This seemed to irritate Tom to no end, he had meticulously covered his tracks and Mrs. Cole had a complete disregard to this and went on blaming the two children anyway. But, Jenny did give her credit, it's not like she was wrong.

Jenny cleared her throat and Tom snapped from his thoughts looking up at the girl.

"So," she said after a weighted pause, "when school starts up again, do you think we're going to be given the same teacher, Tommy?" tacking on the nickname she gifted to him, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't know and stop calling me that," he snapped, feeling increasingly trapped within his room and the orphanage in general.

"I told you I'm not going to say it in public. It's only your private nickname, but if you keep using that tone of voice, that can be easily changed," a sly smile slipped on her face as she threatened him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose feeling a headache approaching, "Mrs. Cole probably wants us in different classes. She hasn't let up on her silly suspicions. I bet she's already planning on having a doctor look at us to decide if they need to separate us, or lock us away, or do experiments on us-"

"-But," she tried to cut in.

Plowing through her voice he continued, "Redan told me Mrs. Cole is already talking in her office with a stranger right now. I bet it's about us and-"

"Tom, stop it you're scaring me," she squealed over his rant, feeling quite shaky.

"You should be scared," was all he said back, but didn't push the dark subject further.

"What should we do?" she asked the air, not really expecting any answer. The grip on the snake in her hand subconsciously tightened and Redan bit her hard, twisting his head as he clamped down, causing her to drop him in shock, "Ouch! Sorry, jerk."

Tom ignored this interaction and chose to address the question, "We need to either run away or do something to deal with her."

She raised her eyebrows, skeptical, "We're just kids, Tommy."

" _You_ might be," he accused, rolling his eyes, "but I, on the other hand, can handle whatever is required to succeed."

"Don't be so full of yourself," she scoffed, "arrogance is an ugly color on you."

"I'm just aware of my abilities," he sniffed turning away, "I'm not a silly girl with my head in the clouds and a firm denial of reality."

She took the opportunity to sneak up on him, grabbing his neck and yanking him down, shoving her hand in his hair making it messy, "Yeah well," she paused, mind blanking on a comeback, "This silly girl just messed up your hair. So there."

He pulled himself away, straightened his hair hurriedly and hissed, "Can you stop being ridiculous, for just one moment!"

She sighed, "Well it's better than sitting around and plotting or sulking, like _you_." She quipped back, losing her patience.

Turning on her heel she marched away from him, towards the door, but paused when he called after her, "Wait!" She turned and looked at him, hand still resting on the door knob. His face was completely blank, "Bring Redan," he ordered, scooping up the snake from the floor and dropping him unceremoniously in her open palms, "That way he can warn me if Mrs. Cole decides to do something with you while we're not together."

"What about me?!" she asked, voice coming out unnaturally high, suddenly feeling very alone in this.

He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment, then mockingly said, "Maybe you should have spent more time 'plotting'."

She was beginning to feel very ill, "I know you aren't being serious, but you're making me very nervous."

He simply rolled his eyes, pushing past her and opened the door she had been hovering near. Dramatically he motioned for her to leave, "Don't be a scaredy-cat."

She gathered her wits, braced herself, and with one final glance at Tom's relaxed face, she walked out the door. Absentmindedly placing the tip of her finger on the wall, tracing an invisible pattern on the wallpaper as she made her way through the hallway to her bedroom. Trying her best to ignore the whispers of the younger children as she passed and pretending not to notice as the other orphans parted to make way for her as if she was inflicted with a plague.

When she got to her room her eyes dropped to a small cardboard box with a thin lid perched on its top, hiding its contents. The box had been place directly in front of her room, in a way that she would have to step over it in order to get in her bedroom. She would have to be quite blind not to notice it. Looking around the hallway checking to see if anyone was watching, she found she was for the most part being ignored. Stooping down she cautiously picked up the box, uncertain if this was a trap set up by another child. She moved slowly from the bustling hallway to the still, cool confines of her bedroom. Carefully inspecting the box, holding it near her face with one hand, the other hand fishing the small snake from her pocket and dropping him carelessly on the spare bed that was currently not assigned to any unfortunate soul.

Lightly she treading across the small room towards a chipped wooden desk, then she gingerly laid down the small box. Mechanically, she pulled the small companion chair to the desk out and settled down on the edge of the seat. She lightly ran her fingers along the box, trying to decide if she should open it or take it to Tom. Guessing what he would want her to do, a spiteful smile slid on her face as she did the opposite. Greedily she peeled the lid from the box. Peering into the shallow container she was perplexed, hesitantly she reached in and removed a small bundle of flowers, she recognized a few that grew in the garden along the house, the others must have been picked off grounds from another garden. The flowers weren't wilting yet, she supposed a person must have recently picked them. At the bottom of the box there was a note, she moved the bouquet to the side, carefully plopping them on the desk as she went for the note.

Before she could remove the paper from the bottom of the box, there was a knock at the door. Sighing, she pushed away from her desk. Hopping to her feet, she approached the door, pausing briefly to look behind her to watch as Redan slipped into a crevasse in the wall, concealing himself. After she was sure he was hidden she twisted the door knob and swung the door open. Freezing in her place and feeling suddenly very uneasy she was face to face with a tall, aged man. Many questions began bubbling and stewing, but one thought was the most prominent. The question cleared through the panicked fog in her brain and ringed in her ears as she looked at the man, feeling blind. 'Was Tom right? Is this a doctor?'

"Hello," She said, expecting an explanation or something from the stranger who was watching her quite penetratingly.

The old man was leaning forward slightly and cracked a smile that she supposed was intended to be warm and disarming, but made her even more on edge. "Ah yes," he said wispily, "You must be Jenny," he stepped forward, across the door frame and into her cramped room. Peering down at her from the tip of his nose he watched as she stepped back, moving away from him, backing slightly towards her bed.

"I must be," she echoed back, trying to buy more time to think.

The strange man stepped towards her desk, motioning towards the flowers, "Quite beautiful, lavenders always smells so sweet this time of year," moving to pick it up he paused, hand hovering over the tiny bundle, watching her carefully, he asked "Do you mind?"

She was floored and more focused on the hard oak door that had swung shut when he walked in, effectively closing off her escape route. Passively, she shook her head, allowing the man to distract himself with the flowers while she tried to collect herself.

He turned towards her, smelling the natural perfume of the flower, then after lowering the flowers from his nose, asked, "Do you know why I'm here?"

Jenny watched him guardedly, wondering wildly why he would bother asking, "Tom knew Mrs. Cole would send a doctor, I guess you're that," she blurted.

The man's blue eyes twinkled conspiringly, "But that's what Tom thinks. What do you think?" He asked almost in a scolding way or as close as she could imagine he'd come.

She studied him in silence, his shoulder-length, gray hair, matching his medium beard. For the first time she noticed that his clothes were very strange, different from what most grown men wore. He had on a purple suit, folded over his arm was a rather long coat, and laying limp over his shoulders was a very bold, polka dotted, purple scarf. "I don't know," she said after a beat, then stated bluntly, "You're weird."

This elicited a hearty laugh from the man, "I cannot deny your observation there young lady," then he leaned towards her and mock whispered, "but you're weird too."

She looked at him carefully, "Who says that?"

"Have you ever done anything that you didn't mean to, something that you couldn't explain?"

She blinked at him and defensively said, "Never."

He seemed slightly taken aback by this but quickly recovered, "You're not in trouble, Jenny," trying to reassure the girl, "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I'm a professor at a school for people just like you," he watched as the girls guarded expression shifted with curiosity but didn't crack. He added, "Tom has a place at this school, as do you, if you accept my offer that is."

"What do you mean?" She asked, sounding a bit harsher that she originally intended.

"You don't remember much about your parents, do you?" She stared at him blankly, racking her brain, feeling as though she's missed something. He gave her a sympathetic smile, "I supposed it was rather long ago. I lost two of my students that year, your brother and sister."

"They went to your school?" She asked, working to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

"Ah yes, your brother was a fine young man, a prefect, he'd nearly graduated. Your sister was a year behind him. If my mind serves me, I believe she favored Defense Against the Dark Arts, although as the Transfiguration professor I'd like to imagine she also enjoyed my classes."

He gave her a small smile and she had a million questions floating into her mind. What was the Dark Arts? What was he supposed to be teaching? Why were her brother and sister not in normal school? After sorting through all these questions only one found the courage to make its way out of her lips, "Have you already spoken to Tom?"

Dumbledore regarded her for a moment, face unreadable, "I have," he confirmed solemnly.

She looked at him, wondering if he'd elaborate more on Tom's reaction, but it became apparent that he was going to remain tight-lipped. She prodded again, this time about her family, "Why were my brother and sister going to this school and not a normal school?"

"What you and Tom can do is magic. Your parents were magical as well and passed down their abilities to your siblings and you."

She nodded in deep contemplation, she looked up at Dumbledore's face and studied it for any hint of deception, apparently satisfied she responded, "Well, when would Tom and I start at this school?"

Dumbledore face was graced with a content smile having seemingly gained her trust, "Classes at Hogwarts starts the first of September," with that being said he reached into his pocket and produced a tan envelope with red wax sealing it, handing it to Jenny, who greedily cracked the wax and began skimming the contents of the letter.

Pausing at the list of items first years needed she commented, "I'm not sure Wool's has the money for us to go to 'wizard school'," she over pronounced the phrase wizard school the words feeling foreign in her mouth.

Dumbledore gave a comforting smile and simply noted, "Hogwarts has a fund for students that need support, although your parents left you quite the inheritance," he fumbled through his pocket for a moment and then produced a brass key, "Ah yes, this is the key to your family's bank vault. You'll be able to access all your money at Gringotts when you go to pick up your school items in Diagon Alley." She looked at him with what must have been a confused expression because he assured her, "If you'd like I can take you, otherwise I did provide directions to Tom, who seems rather eager to go without my assistance."

She nodded, mentally noting what she had been too hesitant to ask outright. Tom had accepted the invitation to Hogwarts. "I'll be going with Tom if that's all right."

The aged man bobbed his graying head, face complacent, as though a suspicion had been confirmed. "Do you have any questions for me before I take my leave?"

She thought a moment, a question on the tip of her tongue, but thought better as she shook her head then watched the tall man turn and duck out of the room.

Jenny watched as the door glided shut behind the professor. Exhausted she collapsed back on to her bed, reeling from all the new information she had.

Allowing her eyes to drift shut she tried to collect herself, only to hear the door swing open and slam against the wall as an intruder roguishly push their way into her room. Her eyes popped open and she immediately found the person responsible for the ruckus.

Tom had a passionate look in his eye, he was pacing and excitedly speaking to her, "You met him too right?" He turned to look at her, but before she was able to speak he continued as if he already knew the answer, "We're magic Jenny. I knew we were different. We're leaving here, together."

She nodded, opening her mouth to say something, but he cut in again, "I asked Dumbledore and guess what?" She didn't try to speak this time, realizing she wouldn't be able to get a word in. "He says that talking to snakes is very rare." His excitement was getting the best of him, "I'm even special as a wizard!"

"Yes, yes Tom, you're amazing," she bit back feeling very bitter that he was always better than her at everything. They just found out they were wizards and even five minutes into this information he was already better at being one than her. She thought to herself that she ought to learn every other language she could think of, she may not be able to talk to snakes but what's stopping her from leaving Tom out of a conversation with a Frenchman or someone from China.

He frowned at her, suddenly losing steam as he saw the girl in front of him had a jealous look twisted on to her face. Carefully he dropped the subject and moved on, "Are you coming with me to Diagon Alley?"

After a moment, trying to decide if she would stay mad, she lost her resolve and answered, "I am. I'd rather go there with you over Dumbledore. He's a professor, you know? I wouldn't want to stand out being escorted around by him."

He nodded thoughtfully and his eyes found the bouquet on her desk, swiping it up with one fluid motion he turned to her, "What is this?" His voice rolling out calm, yet it contained a dangerous edge.

She shrugged lazily, not wanting to give away her genuine interest, "They're called flowers," she sighed whilst rolling her eyes, "I found it outside my door, before I could really investigate it myself Dumbledore knocked."

Tom's focused circled in on the small box next to the bundle of flowers, upon peering in, he vindictively ripped the small paper from the bottom and flipped it over to reveal writing. Jenny flew at him from across the room, rabidly jumping on his back. He feverishly scanned through the note as she howled in his ear nonsense about privacy and gifts. She flailed her arms attempting to reach over his shoulder to remove the note from his hands.

He crumpled the letter into a small ball, holding it firmly in his hand, cocooning it securely within his fist. Upon hearing the crunch of the paper, her heart sank. Dropping from his back she tried to grab his wrist, but he held his hand above his head, far from her reach. He roughly snatched the flowers up in his free hand and carelessly dropped them back in the box, placed the lid back on, and grab it. She watched him now, face flushed with anger.

"You can't just take them from me! Their mine!"

He kept his back to her and coolly said, "You're mistaken. The flowers were for someone else."

She growled and stubbornly replied, "Then it doesn't matter if I have a look at that note." Pushing forward she stood in front of him with her hand out.

"Why does it even matter? We leave for Hogwarts at the end of summer anyway."

"Why does it even matter, Tom?" she echoed back, "I should be able to see it, since we're leaving anyway."

"It's not even meant for you." He repeated, "It's for someone else." Abruptly he nudged her out of the way, moving pass the girl, and out the room. His one hand still gripping the tight ball of paper and the other holding the box that contained the assortment of flowers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

 **AN:** This is the most recent update since I changed the name of this story from Saga of Jenny to Enough Human Left to Die. There has been a few edits done to past chapters, but it isn't necessary to go back and reread as the plot and story hasn't changed significantly.

* * *

 _"Talk less. Smile more. Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for."_

 _\- Hamilton, 'Arron Burr, Sir' -_

* * *

Mrs. Cole was doting over them like a worried mother, "Jenny, Tom, are you sure you don't want me to see you off on the train platform?" They were standing under the roasting sun in the middle of Kings Cross's parking lot.

"No Mrs. Cole, we'll be alright finding our way to the train," Tom said dismissively.

Jenny looked up fondly at Mrs. Cole and swallowed back tears, "It's alright, we've got to start taking care of ourselves eventually, right? Wool's won't be waiting for us forever."

Mrs. Cole didn't say anything for a moment, instead she brushed Jenny's hair over her shoulder, "Alright, you two hurry off, don't be late for your train." She placed a hand atop Tom's head briefly, "And behave, both of you, I don't want to come and collect you two," she said it with a laugh, although Jenny and Tom both caught the serious edge in her voice.

Tom took his leave and grabbed Jenny's arm tugging her towards the station. They pushed into the bustling station and found themselves enveloped in a fast paced crowd.

She sighed and looked at Tom who was glancing back and forth between his ticket and the numbering on the platforms, "I might actually miss it."

"What?" He asked distractedly.

"Wool's, Mrs. Cole..." she trailed off, leaving her unspoken words to die on her tongue. He looked up at her and upon realizing she was staring, the girl quickly snapped her attention down to her trunk, fidgeting with the handle.

"What do you mean miss Wool's? Have you gone mad? It's a festering wasteland fill with horrible children."

She nodded, all desires to defend Wool's was lost. "Well maybe not the place, but what it was to us."

"A nuisance? Or a prison?" He quipped back sarcastically.

Dropping it, she suggested to the rather frustrated looking Tom, "Why don't we ask someone how to get to platform 9¾."

"Jenny, please be reasonable." His irritation was growing with each syllable, "Who would know where that is?"

"Why don't we ask them." She pointed towards a man and a woman walking with a child about their age who was towing a trunk with an owl inside a cage strapped on to it.

"Yes," he agreed reluctantly, "I don't suppose they would be going to an owl convention."

She nodded in agreement, but found that he wasn't looking at her, rather he was navigating quickly through the crowd trying to tail the family.

He paused, in sync with the family, several feet back. She nearly walked right into him, surprised by the sudden stop. The family was standing in front of a pillar talking amongst themselves.

"Come on then, let's ask them," she said and began to walk past Tom, towards the family. Although she was jolted back when a hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

"Stop," he hissed, "we don't need to ask. Just watch them."

She huffed and crossed her arms, "What's so wrong with asking?"

He replied back hesitantly, "We don't need to draw extra attention."

"What is tha-" her question was cut off when she saw something that she couldn't believe.

"Interesting," was all Tom said in acknowledgement.

"Interesting? That's bloody amazing! They melted into the wall!"

"Yes, yes quiet down. Honestly, it's magic." He snapped back, glancing nervously around to see if anyone overheard. After he was certain no one was watching he approached the pillar and leaned against it.

Stunned Jenny watched as he slid through the brick like it was merely a cloth curtain. Dragging her trunk behind her, she walked straight forward, flinching and closing her eyes at the last moment, certain a brick wall was about to smash into her nose. The sensation never came though. She opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by wizarding families. Some of them dressed in normal clothes like she and Tom were wearing. Others were dressed in flowing robes of various colors and styles. She wasn't as shocked by this strange fashion choice anymore due to their prolonged exposure to it in Diagon Alley.

"Are you even listening?" Tom's voice cut over her thoughts and through the rumble of parents speaking to their children.

"Sorry, I was distracted." she answered apologetically, although she was still staring wide eyed around the platform.

"Well," he continued stiffly, "I think we've found platform 9¾. How about we board the train, we're nearly late and I don't need to be left behind."

She nodded and followed him towards the train carts.

* * *

The cabin was smaller than she had expected, she leaned forward and in Tom's ear she noted, "You'd think with the magical train platform and everything, they'd at least have a magically big train."

He ignored her and was busying himself with scanning compartments, attempting to find an empty place to sit. Other kids were crowding the hall and bumping into the pair as they pushed through the cramped walkway. A tall, red headed, boy backed into Jenny, trampling her foot and elbowing the side of her head. She stumbled and grabbed the spot on her head that was jabbed, turning around she looked at the boy who appeared to be in his teens. The teenager said a quick sorry and carried on down the hallway calling after a friend.

"That was rude," she huffed in annoyance and turned back to Tom, but found herself alone. She looked around the nearby compartments and scanned the seats hoping to spot him. The frantic search turned up empty and she was beginning to wonder if he had moved on to a different part of the train. Towing her trunk close behind her, she moved through the crowd.

The train jolted forwards causing her to jump, and most of the children began clearing the halls, rushing to their compartments to wave out the windows. She paused, standing in the empty hall, looking at the backs of a group of kids who all were pressed up against the smudged, glass window. For a moment she couldn't figure out what they were waving to, then she heard a girl around the same age as her shout, "Bye mum, bye dad! I'll write you lots!"

Her stomach turned upon realizing they were waving to their families. Twisting in her spot she abandoned her trunk for a moment as she trotted down the clear hallway scanning the seats once more, knowing that Tom would be the one of the only people also not staring out the window.

To her relief she found him, with a rather bored look on his face and upon spotting her, he turned fully towards her, and quickly scanned over her appearance, then asked, "How did you manage to disappear on me?"

She rolled her eyes, but decided to not argue that he was the one to disappear and opted to respond, "One second, I'll be back. I'm going to put my trunk away."

She quickly ventured back down the hall not wanting to waste the little time she had while they were empty and lugged her trunk back to the compartment she found Tom in. She went to heave the trunk up but was stopped by a stranger. He thrusted out his hand and spoke with an air of expectancy.

"I am Ballard Lestrange," his face twisted into a slimy, toothy smile, "and you are?"

Unsure how to react, she awkwardly glanced at Tom whose face was set in a neutral stare. Returning his smile uncomfortably she said "I'm Jenny Endall."

He looked at her perplexed, "Don't be ridiculous, the Endall family died out years ago."

"Well that's my name," she trailed off. A blush rose on her face, cringing from this new attention on her.

Tom finally stood from his spot and grabbed her luggage, heaving it above his head and into storage for their trip. Placing his hand on the small of her back he guided her towards his seat and motioned for her to sit before settling next to her.

Lestrange was a wealth of knowledge about the Wizarding world. Tom was able to carefully dissect and inquire about what to expect at Hogwarts. The most valuable piece of information was about the houses. Lestrange explained that the best house was Slytherin, most of the prosperous wizards came from there. The second best was Ravenclaw, many new discoveries and spells were made by people in that house. The last two were Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Gryffindor apparently being the worst of the two. Although much to Jenny and Tom's dismay he didn't elaborate much about those houses.

Tom and Lestrange spoke through most of the morning exchanging banter and stories. Jenny studied the passing scenery in the window, only adding her thoughts when directly asked and spent most of her time anxiously wondering when they would arrive.

As time passed they were joined by two of Lestrange's friends, Avery and Rosier. Jenny hadn't bother remembering their first names, feeling quite overwhelmed from all the new information she was getting. She had hoped they would leave and take Lestrange with them but unfortunately after she introduced herself they felt inclined to stick around.

She was nearly asleep by the time an elderly woman pulled a trolley full of sweets to their compartment. Yawning, she watched through bleary eyes as Rosier was the first to jump up to pick out a snack. Jenny stretched and glanced at Tom gauging if he would get a snack too, but she didn't catch his eyes as he was already looking down and digging out a pouch from his pocket. He produced his black velvet bag, unwound the gold string holding it shut, and produced several knuts. Jenny couldn't help but admire the bag he had chosen to purchase. She had allowed him to borrow whatever money he'd want from her vault so he wouldn't need to buy anything second hand. He had been frugal nonetheless, too prideful to accept much help, but also too prideful to only use what Hogwarts had provided as assistance, his ego was too big for worn clothes and a used wand.

After some deliberation Tom opted to get a box of jelly beans and a chocolate frog. She was so distracted watching the boys select their sweets and the unique packaging that they came in, that the trolley had rolled away by the time she had remembered she hadn't purchased anything. She let it go, not wanting to track down the candy lady and get lost from Tom again. She was a little disappointed since they hadn't gotten many sweets at the orphanage. She distractingly looked out the window, when she was jolted from her thoughts by Tom's elbow. He presented her half of a chocolate frog. She grabbed it from him, looked up to give him a smile but he was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Lestrange and Avery. They were talking about a most peculiar word: muggles.

"What's a muggle?" She asked over top of the conversation.

The compartment went quiet. Rosier was the first to break it with a laugh mangled in with, "That's bloody rich, you sound like a mudblood."

She wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but she gathered it must be an insult, "It was simply a question," she bit back haughtily.

Almost immediately she knew that question should have been held off until she could ask Tom in private. She saw him shifting uncomfortably in the corner of her eye.

Tom cut in through the thick silence in the compartment, "A muggle is a non-magical person."

She was quickly beginning to wish she had followed Tom's lead and read some of the extra books they had picked up along with their school supplies. She had laughed at him when, after dinner every night, he'd hole up in his room and read, she told him that he was just wasting the rest of their summer. She hadn't even considered the fact that there would be people who had known about magic their whole life also attending school.

"Right," she blandly replied back to him. All eyes in the compartment were on her, she shifted uncomfortably feeling her face flush in embarrassment.

"Okay," Lestrange stood up abruptly, "We really should be changing into our robes, were bound to be getting there shortly."

* * *

Jenny found herself nearly shaking with nerves as the train roared on, closer to Hogwarts. Fiddling with the hem of her skirt she stole a glance at Tom, who had a calm, almost bored look on his face as he responded to something Rosier had said. "Well," he drawled out the word thoughtfully, "I wouldn't mind being in Slytherin, although my second choice would be Ravenclaw." His eyes drifted over to Jenny and upon seeing she was already watching him he asked, "What house would you like to be in, Jenny?"

She froze, the boys all looked at her expectantly. "Um," she mumbled, "I guess Ravenclaw sounds interesting."

Avery laughed, "Don't be ridiculous, all Endall's end up in Slytherin. Do you really not want to be in the most pure house?"

Before she could stop herself, her question slipped from her tongue, "Pure? What do you mean by that?" As soon as the words left her mouth she flinched, knowing Tom would hate her asking all these questions.

"Wow, you really don't know," Rosier commented, his eyes were bouncing between Jenny and Tom, narrowing like he was trying to figure something out.

"Purebloods are wizards that come from a family of wizards, so Endall, you are a pureblood because both your mother and father were wizards," Lestrange explained. Upon learning this information she peaked over at Tom to read his expression, only to see he had an impassive mask on, she wondered if this was in his books too. "Half-bloods, are people who have only one parent who is a wizard," Lestrange continued, "and Mudbloods don't have any magical parent. Slytherin house would never have a Mudblood, it's an insult to the house-"

"And Hogwarts," Avery cut in.

"They should be banned," Rosier agreed.

Lestrange resumed as though he hadn't been interrupted, "Thus, Slytherin has the most pure wizards."

She bobbed her head dumbly.

"So, where did you live after you parents died? Under a rock?" Rosier prodded, but was quickly scolded.

"Don't be rude," Avery barked, elbowing the offending boy.

Then the train jolted to a stop and she immediately forgot about responding as a feeling of dread and excitement twisted like a ball of snakes in her stomach. They had arrived at Hogwarts.

* * *

"I heard that we have to tame a hippogriff."

"No way, they wouldn't bring those into the castle. My sister told me we'd have to fight a bogart!"

Jenny and Tom stood next to each other, in front of them their new 'friends' were bickering over what the sorting ceremony was going to be. Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot she looked at Tom for reassurance, who merely offered her a tight smile then went back to listening intently to their conversation. With a shaking hand she double checked her pocket for the firm wood of her wand incase she had to fight for her place in the school. She absently wondered if she would ever get used to having a twig with her all the time.

Without warning the large set of wooden doors they had been lined up behind swung open, and she felt the urge to run the other way. The first thing she noticed was the ceiling, it was seemingly endless and had hundreds of white candles, all varying in length, hovering in the air. She leaned over to Tom about to whisper in his ear, when a hat that was propped up in the middle of the room began to move. A large mouth opened along a seam and the hat began singing an offbeat tune. The awe of a talking hat overshadowed any words it was saying but she was able to gather that this hat was related to sorting them all.

A familiar face stepped forward, she recognized them almost immediately as Professor Dumbledore. He produced a list and peering down his nose, read a name, "Abbott, Julian." A rather round boy timidly walked forward and the Professor motioned for him to sit. Jenny watched, holding her breath, expecting something to jump out and attack him, but instead the talking hat was plopped on his head, slipping over his eyes.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat declared after a moment and Jenny nearly laughed.

"That's all?" She whispered to Tom incredulously.

"Pity," he responded as Dumbledore called another person forward, "I was hoping for some way to prove ourselves."

She cleared her throat, hiding the giggle that bubbled up, "You're so predictable."

He looked at her indignantly, but before he could reply, Professor Dumbledore had already moved further down the list. His voice boomed, "Endall, Jenny."

She looked up, wide eyed, then realized she needed to move. Pushing her way to the front of the group she marched up to the chair, keeping her eyes fixed on the hat. Sitting down in a manner she hoped was graceful, the worn cloth of the hat slipped over her head and rested on her cheeks.

"Hmm," a voice spoke, sounding as though it was perched on her shoulder, "It's been a few years since I've sorted an Endall. Your family has historically been Slytherins, but I see potential in Hufflepuff."

"Please don't put me in Hufflepuff." She found herself begging, "They said that one is no good."

"Are you sure? You could make many great friends in Hufflepuff."

She nearly laughed at the hat. She didn't need more friends or even want more friends. She had Tom.

"Alright, if you're sure. Hmm, yes, I guess you have decided. You best be in SLYTHERIN!" The last word was shouted, making Jenny jump a little. The hat was whisked from her head and she walked over to the only table clapping. It was decorated in a gaudy deep green and the people sitting at the table had matching green ties. Plopping down next to Avery she absently wondered if green was a good color on her.

There was several other times her table erupted in applauds. Lestrange was now seated across from her. The girl was too busy to acknowledge him though, she was mentally running through the alphabet, counting the number of letters until R.

Dumbledore called out "Prewett, Ignatius," who was promptly sorted into Gryffindor.

Nearly shaking with nerves she glanced over at Tom, only to see the group of first years yet to be sorted was dwindling in numbers. She vaguely wondered if he was as worried as she was about where he'd be placed.

All too fast the moment was upon them, "Riddle, Tom," the Professor listed out.

Tom swept down the length of the room, his shoulders square, head held high. He sat on the chair and the hat slid down, looking comically too large for the serious faced boy. The hat only sat for a few moments on his head before it shouted, "Slytherin."

He stood and immediately made his way to their table, taking a seat next to Jenny. He smiled slyly at her for a moment then turned his attention back to the sorting ceremony. A few other people were sorted, but Jenny was too busy on calming her pounding heart to pay attention, the relief that he was in her house was still catching up with the rest of her. After all the first years were sorted to their proper places, Headmaster Dippet stood and said a few words of welcome, as well as reminding them of a few rules.

"As a reminder the Forbidden Forest is, and always will be, off limits," Dippet lectured, "Third years: please be ready to produce your permission slips for your head of house before your first trip to Hogmeade."

"What's the Forbidden Forest?" Rosier whispered while the headmaster continued through his rules.

An older boy, with platinum blond hair spoke up, "Are you daft? You're going to lose Slytherin's points before classes have even started." The boy turned back to watch the headmaster, leaving the group of first years rather floored. They all followed suit watching Headmaster Dippet, waiting for him to finish addressing them.

Upon the final word, there was a pop and the tables were covered in food. Warm entrees, complete with waves of steam, golden cooked pastries drizzled in icing, and each student had two goblets in front of them, one filled with an orange colored juice and the other with water. Jenny was almost certain her eyes were going to pop out of her head, there was almost too much in front of her to process. She had never seen this much food in one place before.

"So what is it?" Rosier's question popped her out of a trance like state. Meticulously she began placing food in her plate, starting with a roll and several pieces of meat. Glancing up with a trained look of disinterest, she watched as Rosier tapped the arm of the older boy who had scolded them earlier.

The blond turned and looked at him with a glare that could curdle milk, "What?"

Unfazed he continued with his question, "What is the Forbidden Forest?"

The blond sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Why don't you ask someone else, stop bloody bothering me."

"Oh, come off it Malfoy." Avery prodded, apparently curious as well.

"How do you know his name?" Jenny found herself asking. She jumped a little when Tom pinched her leg under the table, quickly she shot him an accusing glare, then turned back to Avery expectantly.

"Our parents know each other. Almost every Pureblood in Slytherin have spent some holiday or another with each other," he explained after a beat. He was watching her, almost like he was seeing something for the first time, "Say, why haven't you met anyone? You are pureblood, aren't you?"

Lestrange cut into the conversation with a pompous air, "Avery, of course she is. She's an Endall for Merlin's sake. Please refrain from speaking, your constant foot in mouth is ruining conversation."

After grumbling for a bit Avery went back to picking at his food and Rosier gave up on finding out more about the Forbidden Forest. Jenny was able to focus solely on her food and trying to eat as much as possible, rarely getting this large of a variety of options at the orphanage. Tom was chatting with a boy seated to his left. She felt at peace, the hum of students laughing and talking acted as a calming white noise, breaking through the stress of the day. Bubbling deep in her stomach there was an unrest, she dismissed this, thinking maybe the rich foods were settling wrong, but try as she may, there was a feeling she couldn't shake that she was witnessing a calm before the storm.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

 _I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out._

 _\- Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover -_

* * *

"Hey, psst, Jenny," her head popped up.

Life had begun to settle into normalcy for the most part and, if nothing else, had become a bit lonely. Tom had been spending most of his free time with a herd of various boys, she on the other hand, did not get bit by the social bug. The primary interactions she had with other people since sorting was the occasional times a professor would volunteer her to answer a question or the singular time two of her roommates had a spat and refused to speak directly to each other for three days.

The voice whispered again, "Hey! I know you heard me," she turned in the direction of the whisper, to find Tom peering at her from behind a bookcase, "Ah there we are. Come on then, we're in a hurry you know." His head disappeared behind the wall of books.

Giving a fleeting look of resentment towards a History of Magic essay she was working on, she opted to crumple it up, deciding she didn't want to haul rubbish with her. After tidying her workspace she approached the last spot she saw Tom. Rounding the corner, she found no one, only several books scattered on the floor. One of the books had a blue and purple cover, tattered slightly from use, in golden text on the front it read 'Formation with Transfiguration'. There was another book placed neatly next to it, it's sleek, glossy cover catching her eye, it looked relatively new and was titled, 'The Art of Dark Arts'. Leaning down, she went to pick it up.

"Finally, it took you long enough," she jumped, Tom's voice coming from behind her.

"You were the one who disappeared." She argued, crossing her arms stubbornly.

The librarian poked her head in their aisle, face scrunched in frustration, "Hush, people are studying."

"My apologies, Miss." Tom responded, in a whisper, paired with a charming smile.

Jenny nodded weakly along, embarrassment tinting her cheeks red.

The librarian gave him a smile and disappeared around the corner again. Once the coast cleared Tom gripped Jenny's upper arm and began hurriedly towing her from the library.

"Where are we going?" She asked after a few moments.

"I want to show you something."

"What?"

She watched from the corner of her eye as a teasing smile played on his lips. "Maybe if you have patience you'll find out sooner."

"It's not like we're going to walk any slower while talking." She whined.

"We're just about there." He insisted.

They walked in silence for a bit longer before Tom declared angrily, "No this isn't right."

"What isn't right?" She asked.

"I would have sworn it was right here."

"What Tom?" She asked again, frustration leaking into her voice.

"There was a room here, it was like a private common room! It was perfect."

Skeptical, she asked, "Why would that be here? This isn't a very normal location for a common room."

"I know what I saw." He snapped, obviously disappointed that his room disappeared.

"Maybe we're on the wrong floor," Jenny suggested, "the moving staircase always turns me around."

Tom shot her a smoldering glare, but before he could respond, a regal sounding woman exclaimed in a huff, "Oh, stop that this instant!"

The pair turned on the spot to find Peeves attempting to remove a painting of a renaissance woman from the wall.

"Hey," Jenny called, almost instantaneously regretting it, as Peeves eagerly spun to face his challenger. "She doesn't want to be moved."

He swooped down, closing in on Tom and Jenny, leaning forward he laughed, "Ickle firsties mustn't be skipping dinner." He wagged a disapproving finger at them. "Rotten Riddle and the ickle orphan shan't be wandering about."

"Come on," Tom gritted out, "let's leave before he starts throwing bread or something worst at us." He turned on his heel and began walking down the hall rather fast, leaving Jenny to trot along at his side in order to keep up.

"Has that happened?" She asked, wondering if Tom had been a victim of Peeves before.

"I've heard things about him."

"From who?" She asked.

Before she could get an answer, they passed a Ravenclaw prefect who said, "Hey Riddle, staying out of trouble?"

Tom paused in his stride, "Bletchley! How've you been doing?"

"Professor Dumbledore assigned third years an essay on Animagi, it's boring me to tears."

"Ah, yes. Has he seemed in a bad mood to you?" Tom asked conversationally.

"He's been pleasant for the most part. He can be hard to read, well not harder than Professor Binns," the prefect joked.

"Right. Well, we really must be going. See you," Tom dismissed him and began walking down the hall at a slower pace than before, which Jenny was grateful for.

They strolled down the hall with no destination in mind. They were for the most part alone, save for a few stragglers who hadn't found their way to dinner. "So, you're making a lot of new friends." She noted to him, breaking their prolonged silence.

"Hmm," he hummed in agreement. "Dumbledore doesn't seem fond of me." He said after a moment of contemplation.

"Why does that matter?"

"He's a professor!" Tom exclaimed as though that instantly explained it.

"So what? Mrs. Cole didn't really like us all that much either."

Tom turned sharply to her, "Have you been spreading that around?"

"Huh? What-"

"You can't-," he paused, looking briefly around, no one was paying attention but he dropped his voice to a whisper, "You can't be telling people where we come from."

"Why not?"

"They'll treat us different."

"Why would they do that?"

With a frustrated sigh he approached a classroom and peered in, seeming satisfied with what he saw, he walked in motioning for her to follow. The classroom was empty except for a lone book left on a desk, forgotten by its owner. Tom shut the door behind them. Now in privacy, he resumed, "We were raised by muggles! That's not normal."

She rolled her eyes, "Yes it is. There's a Gryffindor girl in our History of Magic class who's mum and dad are both muggles."

"Why are you so difficult?" He breathed in frustration. "It's normal for other houses. Not Slytherin. Everyone who's a Slytherin has at least one magic parent and grew up with magic."

She shrugged, "And that matters because?"

"We're different."

"We're all wizards here Tom. We don't have to keep any more secrets."

"No, being a wizard was a good different. Being raised by muggles is a bad kind of different."

"So you expect me to keep our entire childhood a secret." She deadpanned.

"Excellent, you're catching on!" He said with a relieved smile.

"No."

"What do you mean, 'No'?" His voice was building in frustration again.

"You heard Peeves. Everyone knows that I'm an orphan. Would it be that strange that I wound up in a muggle orphanage?" She asked.

"That isn't the point-"

Speaking over him, she continued, "I'm not ashamed of it. It's out of our control."

"You can't openly flaunt this about." He was nearly begging her now.

"I will!" She declared, growing angry with him, "I spent my whole life hiding and keeping things a secret. When will we be able to be honest with people Tom?"

"Stop making this something it's not!" He snapped.

"I'm making it exactly what it is." She insisted, turning on her heel she stomped dramatically to the door.

"Don't!" He barked as her hand closed around the cool metal of the doorknob, "No self-respecting Slytherin will associate with you if you start spewing this nonsense."

She didn't turn back as she swung the door open and loudly responded, causing a passing student to jump from the unexpected noise, "That doesn't matter. I was raised by muggles and I don't care what anyone has to say about it!"

* * *

"You mind if I join you?" Startled, Jenny looked up to see Lestrange watching her.

She blinked, then after a moment she moved one of her textbooks off the flat part of a large stone she was seated on. "Sure." She answered awkwardly.

"What are you even doing over here?" He asked while taking a seat next to her.

"Is sunny out and warm. You know winters approaching fast, soon there will be too much snow to enjoy the sun." She reminded him defensively.

"No, I mean, what are you doing so close to the Forbidden Forest." He asked, using one of his feet to kick a stone towards the tree line.

"It's a peaceful place to study." She answered, swatting lazily at a fly, then turning her attention back to her textbook.

"Why are you even studying? It's the weekend."

"It's part of my routine." She answered impatiently.

"You're routine?"

She sighed, closing her textbook, "Yes. I try to spend at least one day over the weekend studying outside."

"Interesting. What class are you studying for right now?"

"Did Tom put you up to this?" She asked abruptly.

"What makes you ask that?" His neck and the tips of his ears tinted red.

She stood up, "You haven't talked to me since sorting and all the sudden you're interested in my classwork? Not to mention he and I haven't spoken to each other for a week."

"He just was making sure you were okay."

"Well, why doesn't he ask me?" She said cross.

"He's a good guy, Endall. You should give him a chance. I bet you two could be good friends."

She looked sharply at him, "When do you think he met me?"

"Wasn't it on the train?" Lestrange asked, clearly in over his head.

She let out a sarcastic, spiteful laugh. "Wrong. We've known each other since age three. We met in a muggle orphanage," she revealed. She watched as he processed this information, first his face showed confusion, then realization, finally settling on a clouded expression she couldn't describe as either positive or negative.

"Oh." Was all he said. She couldn't decide if she felt guilty or not about telling Lestrange about Tom's past.

She gathered her books hurriedly and once she accumulated a stack of school supplies said, "Maybe, you should tell Tom to deal with his own messes." She turned towards the castle and made quick work of finding her way back to her room.

She continued studying in her room for an hour, before growing bored and trying to fold origami to pass the time. By the time several of her roommates appeared in their dormitory Jenny had three crumpled balls of paper and one half mutilated paper frog to show for her effort. She watched the group out of the corner of her eye as she distractedly unfolded and refolded her paper. The girls talked amongst themselves for a moment and after a few words, the shortest of them approached Jenny's bed. She believed her surname was Blishwick although the first name was escaping her.

"Hey, Endall, right?" She asked.

She faced fully towards Blishwick, her half-folded paper dropping to the bed, forgotten. "That's me. What can I do for you?"

"Um, Riddle is looking for you." She glanced shyly back towards her friends, who looked back at her expectantly, "He said that it's urgent."

Jenny rolled her eyes, he always was one for dramatics. "Right. Where is he?"

"He's outside the girl's dormitory."

She nodded, "Thank you." Jumping up from her spot on the bed she left the dormitory.

Tom was standing just outside the doorway as promised. He was impatiently tapping his foot and had a look on his face like the whole room smelled of sour milk.

"You summoned me?" She asked.

"Yes." He answered, his voice was strained as he attempted to keep his frustration from showing. "Let's talk in my room."

He grabbed her wrist and began towing her to his room. She couldn't help but notice how strikingly similar he was to his previous self, pre-Hogwarts. It was almost comforting to realize the charming, social, Tom was just a facade. Her childhood friend that hated the other kids and resented Mrs. Cole was still hidden in him, buried under his formal 'sir's and 'ma'am's and beneath his charming, tight-lipped smile.

They entered his room, Tom said several polite words to his roommates and they exited without argument. This was Jenny's first time in his room and it was starkly different from his room at the orphanage, which was barren and almost clinically clean. His dorm had the lightest scent of mildew and mud in the air. The walls next to most of the beds were plastered in moving posters depicting different men on broomsticks, some were chasing each other around, others had a single person who was smiling and waving proudly. The floor was strewn in socks, robes, and the occasional book. Only one bed was an exception. The bedside table had a single cup, half empty, filled with water, the bedsheets were pulled taut across the surface of the bed and smoothed, and the trunk at the foot of the bed had three books place neatly on its lid for easy access. She immediately gathered this must be Tom's bed.

Plopping herself on the bed, causing the sheets to wrinkle and fold beneath her weight, she sighed, allowing her muscles to relax. "What is it?"

"Why did you tell Lestrange." He worded his sentence like a question, but it came out sounding more like an accusation.

"I merely told him how we met. He was under the incorrect impression that we met on the train. I was just clearing up the confusion." She answered, shooting him a snarky smile.

"You deliberately went against my wishes." He hissed.

"You deliberately didn't take my feelings into account when you made them." She answered allowing her emotions to get the best of her.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself—"

"I am."

"—He asked me about it in front of all of my roommates. It won't be long until the whole school knows the truth." He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it a bit as he tried to work out his frustration.

"Would that be so bad?" She asked rhetorically, but it didn't stop him from sneering a 'yes' in reply. She continued sarcastically, "People would know that you have a past? Merlin forbid!"

He stared at her hard, "It's easy for you to brush this off. Jenny Endall: The Lost Pureblood Gem of Slytherin."

"Nobody says that," she scoffed, "I doubt anyone has even thought that."

"Don't you get it?" His voice was raising. "They don't have to. You don't have anything to prove. Your lineage is proof enough. Me on the other hand." He shook his head.

"What about you?" She asked crossing her arms.

"I have nothing! No family vault. No family name. No history, legacy, lineage. Nothing."

"Are you really comparing your dead parents to my dead parents right now?"

"That's what they're doing." He gestured angrily towards the closed door that led to the common room, "The moment they heard our surnames they were able to make any assumptions needed."

"I thought they were your friends?" She asked confused.

Tom sighed, sounding defeated, "They'll pretend alright, but I still have to prove myself. I'm not a Lestrange, Malfoy, or an Endall," he said the last bit while shooting Jenny a sharp look, "my name means nothing."

She thought for a moment then she remembered, "You're in Slytherin."

"Yes, the sorting hat established this weeks ago." He rolled his eyes.

"No, no, listen. You're in Slytherin. Remember what Lestrange said? People in Slytherin have at least one magic parent!"

He nodded and announced, "That must mean that my dad is a wizard!"

"Why not your mum?"

"She died giving birth. If she were a wizard she would have been able to heal herself or something," he dismissed the idea a bit coldly.

"Right," she said uncomfortably, "I suppose. If that's the case then there should be some record of your dad going to Hogwarts."

"I have to find him." He declared, there was a spark in his eyes and she knew at once that he would. Tom always got what he wanted. They stood in silence for a moment, Tom plotting and Jenny observing him. He absentmindedly twirled his wand in his hand as he thought. He'd used to do that with a pencil while they worked on homework. A small, sad smile grew on her face, disappointed that their flimsy quills would never permit such idle fiddling.

"Where shall we start?" She asked.

"I'm going to ask the ghosts first, starting with Professor Binns."

"Really?" She scrunched up her nose at the thought of spending more time with the boring professor.

"Yes, it will give me an opportunity to bond with him."

She laughed, "Bond?"

"Yes," he answered seriously, "He's very tricky to flatter."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, "I don't get why that would matter."

"Of course you don't." He sniffed annoyed.

"Alright, I get it," she said with resignation. "Are you still mad?"

He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment then said, "No. Although I will ask that you consult me in the future before revealing things about my personal life."

"No promises." She teased with a smile.

Tom was not nearly as amused, but he dropped the subject. He strode across the room, stepping over a pair of shoes on the way, stopping in front of a crack in a wall. He stuck his hand out and Redan slithered out.

"How's he doing?" She asked at once, having not seen him since their trip to Kings Cross.

"He's settling in well. Still getting a feel for the grounds." He noted, gently stroking the snake's head. "He won't enter the Forbidden Forest." She looked up from the snake to look at Tom, only to find that he was already watching her with a guarded expression. "Speaking of that—" He began but she cut him off.

"I already know where this is going. Lestrange made your concerns obvious enough." She said while crossing her arms firmly.

"I'm only worried." He explained while putting Redan on the ground, who promptly slithered back into a crack along the wall and floor. "We don't know what's in there."

"I'm not going in." She insisted.

"How long will that last though? There are werewolves in that forest!"

She laughed, "Well if that's all you're worried about I promise I won't sit near the forest at night, during a full moon."

"This isn't a joke. You keep wandering off from me; if you get hurt or attacked and no one knows where you are, you could die before I find you."

"I'm wandering off from you?" The frustration was nakedly apparent in her voice, "You're the one that's off without me. I'm not going to wake up every day and try to track you down."

"I'm networking." He said.

"Whatever that means!" She bit back.

He sighed defeated, "I'll try to make more time for you."

"Thank you," the anger she was feeling deflated almost instantly. After a moment of silence, she asked, "What's the deal with your room?"

Tom kicked a sock, near his foot, "I can't stand it."

"I know," she said with a smile. "Why are you tolerating this?"

"You don't win the hearts and minds of people overnight." She shot him a confused look and he explained further, "I don't want to start making demands and rules right away. I'm just some half-blood raised by muggles." He cringed at his own words and looked as though they left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Wow, I never thought I'd see the day that the great Tom Riddle would admit he might not be super important." She teased.

He grumbled a little, the back of his neck turning red in embarrassment, then changed the subject. "We should practice for Transfiguration tomorrow."

She smiled, "Eager to impress Professor Dumbledore?"

"Something like that." He answered lightheartedly as he reached for his textbook.

* * *

 **AN:** This story is officially at 20K words! I'm very excited for the rest of this story. Please review and let me know what you think so far and if there is anything I can improve on!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

 _... the pursuit of origins is a way of rescuing territory from death and oblivion, a reconquest that ought to be patient, devoted, relentless and faithful._

 _\- Amin Maalouf, Orígenes -_

* * *

Jenny laughed at something Tom had said, leaning over her scone, tilting towards him. The morning sun was glowing through the windows and the air felt crisp like most good mornings tend to. The room felt electric with new found energy, the snow had thawed and Hogwarts shuddered to life, no longer bogged down by slush and cold. Students were eagerly preparing for exams and the inevitability of summer. Everyone was generally in a good mood, but Jenny saw there was a hiccup in Tom's expression, his relaxed grin stiffened and his eyebrows lowered for a moment before he rebuilt his face into an impassive smile. She frowned at him, but his eyes were watching someone just over her head.

Jenny was internally debating whether she should ask him what he was looking at or if she should just turn and see for herself, but before she could decide he said, "Who does Dumbledore think he is?"

"What do you mean?" She glanced back at the professor's table, to see Professor Dumbledore was merrily chatting with Professor Beery.

"He looked at me funny."

"You're being paranoid." She brushed him off with an eye roll.

"No it's not just that," he insisted. "He's been grading me tougher than everyone else. He always is around—"

She cut him off and with a chuckle said, "He teaches here."

"I know that." He snapped back frustrated, "It's like he's following me. It's like he doesn't trust me or something."

"Please," she drew out the word lazily. "It's not like you've given him a reason not to trust you." She hesitated, picking at a cranberry in her scone, then side-eyed Tom, watching him discretely, she asked, "Right?"

He scowled, "Of course I haven't given the old fool a reason to."

"Then there's nothing to worry about." She said dismissively.

"I just have this feeling—" Tom started again but stopped abruptly.

Avery's voice rang from behind Jenny. "Hey, you two. I was looking everywhere for you Tom. You got up early today."

"Good morning, Avery." Tom greeted.

"Hi, Avery," Jenny said, as he sat down next to Tom. "Where's Rosier?" The two were nearly always together and had sat next to each other in every class. They were practically attached at the hip.

"He's in the hospital wing."

Jenny's mouth popped open in horror, she asked, "Oh Merlin is he okay?"

"Yeah, some second-year Gryffindors sent him a nasty hex in the halls this morning."

"What was it?" Tom asked, not even glancing up from his eggs.

"Beats me. Got him good though, right on the cheek. It started swelling up and turned red. He couldn't see out of one eye by the time we got him to the hospital wing."

"This close to exams too!" Jenny huffed, crossing her arms and shooting a dark look towards the Gryffindor table.

Tom shifted in his seat and rolled up his sleeves, sparing a passing glance towards Jenny, he rationalized with her, "I'm sure they were just hoping for retaliation, we've nearly won the House Cup. They want to make us lose points."

"We are going to retaliate though, right?" She asked.

Tom scoffed. "I'm not going to do anything. We both should be revising for our exams." He watched Jenny from the corner of his eye, mulling over her expression, trying to figure out if he had reeled her in from the plot she was hatching.

Jenny sighed disappointed then tried again, "Avery, come on, don't you want revenge?"

Avery watched Jenny for a moment then glanced at Tom, after a beat, he answered, "I'm not getting in the middle of this. All I'm gonna say is that Rosier thought it was a great laugh. He's hoping to take the exams late by using this as an excuse."

Tom bobbed his head contemplating this for a moment then said, "It's not a bad idea."

"Please, Professor Binns would never go for that," Jenny said dismissively.

"Not necessarily," Tom agreed thoughtfully, "but he just needs to convince Professor Slughorn and he'll talk to the other professors."

Avery scoffed, "No way mate, he's gonna have to convince Headmaster Dippet. It's the end of the year exams after all. He could get the answers from us." Then as an afterthought, he added, "That probably is his plan."

"Speaking of Slughorn," Jenny began conspiringly, "do you think he'll invite us to the Slugclub next year?"

Slughorn had only invited a few first years into his club at the start of the year. Lestrange had been one of them, which had left a bit of tension in Tom's relationship with him. Funnily enough, Lestrange hated being apart of the Slugclub, he didn't attend most of the meetings except for when Professor Slughorn asked him to attend in person.

Avery shrugged, "I wouldn't want to go, it sounds boring."

Jenny turned to Tom who was looking at Professor Slughorn contemplatively. He looked back at her with a small spark of determination in his eyes. "I think he's just waiting to see how we do in the exams. I'm sure he'll invite us next year."

"We'll see." Jenny mused after considering this.

"Well, he won't invite us if we get terrible marks. Come on, let's go to the library." He said as he pushed his now empty plate away and left the table. Leaving Jenny and Avery seated.

Jenny rose and hesitated considering bringing the rest of her scone, but ultimately decided to abandon it. She then asked Avery, "Will you be joining us?"

He laughed, "We already have class today. I'm not revising before class, then doing homework after too."

Jenny shrugged and said, "If you visit Rosier before classes let him know Tom and I hope he's doing better." With that, she turned and join Tom who was waiting for her.

"What took you so long?" He asked.

"Please Tommy, relax." She huffed, "I was only asking if Avery wanted to join us since Rosier is in the hospital wing."

"Seeing he's not here, I can assume you wasted our time." He noted smugly.

"Don't be rude." She deadpanned back.

They walked in silence down the corridor. Most of the late risers that still wanted to get breakfast were working their way to the Great Hall. Nearly Headless Nick was floating amongst the students, chatting with the Fat Friar. When they spotted Tom and Jenny, the Fat Friar excused himself and drifted towards them. Tom spotting this, paused and produced a smile.

"Friar!" Tom greeted him like an old friend. "How pleasant to see you this morning."

"Tom, just the man I was looking for," the ghost's eyes found Jenny, "Ah, my apologies, how rude of me, I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm the Fat Friar."

"I'm Jenny Endall."

The Friar look like he was going to start in on more pleasantries, so Tom cut in trying to redirect the ghost, "I'm dreadfully sorry Friar, but we really must hurry to the library, you see, we've got exams coming up."

"Ah, yes," the round ghost nodded gleefully, "I won't be but a moment. I wanted to let you know I was able to put in a good word for you with the Grey Lady. She's agreed to speak with you." The Fat Friar smiled pleasantly, apparently pleased to deliver the news.

"Thank you, Friar. I knew I could count on you." Tom said with a charming smile. He was looking quite pleased with himself.

"Well, it was the least I could do since I wasn't able to remember if I had met your father or not."

"That's quite alright, you've assisted me splendidly." He amended.

"Alright well, I best not keep you any longer from your studies. Do ask if you have any trouble finding her. I'm always floating around here or there."

"Thank you," Tom said as they went separate ways.

"What was that about?" Jenny asked.

"She's the last one!" Tom answered with a little extra spring in his step.

"The last of what?"

"The last ghost that I need to ask about my dad." He answered as though it was obvious.

"You're still on that? It's almost been a whole school year."

"Yes, yes, but the Grey Lady is notoriously shy. She was unwilling to talk to me when I first approached her. She favors the Ravenclaws." He noted the last part mostly to himself.

"I thought you were friends with some Ravenclaws." She said confused, "What about that one Prefect? You know? I think he has glasses."

"Bletchley?" He chuckled, "No, he isn't nearly delicate enough. The Fat Friar was an obvious choice."

They turned into the library, which was filled with more students than usual cramming for their various exams. One student, in particular, was surrounded by a mountain of books and seemed like they were on the verge of a mental breakdown, they looked about of age, presumably, they were studying for the NEWTs.

Jenny took the lead as she stepped in front of Tom and weaved between the students zeroing in on a table in the back corner of the library near the restricted section that wasn't occupied. Sliding her school supplies on the table, she decided to study from her History of Hogwarts book first, which was the class she felt she was most behind in. Tom, on the other hand, had opted to study his Transfiguration book, which Jenny noted bitterly to herself, he didn't actually need to improve in that subject.

They studied in silence together. The sun crawled lazily along the window sill as the time passed. They remained undisturbed until Tom snapped his book close. Jenny inhaled sharply in surprise and looked up at the source of the noise.

"It's just about time for Potions," he explained, gathering his books.

"You don't have to be so abrupt about it." She snapped in a hissed whisper, after spotting the librarian eyeing them.

He shrugged to Jenny unapologetically as they exited the library and said, "Let's hurry, I don't want to get on Professor Slughorn's bad side."

"Is that even possible?" She mumbled sarcastically.

A playful smirk grew on Tom's face as he obliged her with a correction, "Okay, then I don't want to force his hand and get detention."

"That sounds more accurate," she agreed.

"I'm glad I can be of service." He replied with mock arrogance.

They arrived in Potions a few seconds before the bell chimed indicating the start of class. Slughorn had yet to arrive, giving Jenny and Tom ample time to set up their cauldron and supplies.

Jenny smiled over at Tom proudly and said, "Mr. Riddle, you are perfectly punctual as usual."

With a playful grin he nodded and replied, "Why thank you Ms. Endall, I owe half of my success to my lovely partner."

Lestrange snorted behind them, "You both almost earned yourselves detention."

"Ah, but we didn't," Jenny responded cheekily.

"Dumb luck," Lestrange said with a laugh.

Before Tom or Jenny could respond, the door swung open and Slughorn walked in, with a large book in his hands, several pages had papers sticking out of them. The class silenced at once, looking to the professor for instructions.

Professor Slughorn opened his book and flipped to one of the pages marked with a paper and mumbled, "Yes, here we are." Clearing his throat he spoke to the class, "Would you all be so kind as to turn to page 279." There was a rustle of papers that punctuated the professor's pause as the class found the page in their textbook. After it appeared everyone had found the spot he continued, "Today we will be brewing the Herbicide Potion. Now, can anyone tell me the effects of this potion?" Tom's hand went up, as well as two Hufflepuffs. Slughorn considered each student for a moment then said, "Riddle?"

"As the name suggests, this potion is a poison to plants that kills or damages them depending on how hardy they are."

"Very good, Riddle my boy!" The professor praised him then asked, "Is this potion harmful to anything other than a plant?" This time a Hufflepuff was called on, who answered that it can make humans who drink it ill. "Excellent! I can see you've all been doing your reading. Please begin brewing this potion. If you finish up early you can leave after I've seen it. Keep in mind that for your final exam you will need to brew the Wiggenweld Potion and be able to answer what it can be used for."

With that, the class hurriedly began prepping the potion. Jenny defaulted to cutting up lionfish spines into smaller chunks to make them easier to crush, meanwhile, Tom was setting up the mortar. Once she dumped the spines into the mortar she began crushing them, leaving Tom to scoop out some herbs to add to the mixture. They continued like this, each dividing the work wordlessly, supplementing additional steps into the recipe when they felt it was needed. When Tom gave the potion a final stir it turned an emerald green as described in their book. Jenny flashed Tom a smile, then looked towards Professor Slughorn who was already making his way to them with a small potted plant in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"Excellent colour you two. Let's see how potent it is." The professor said as he dipped his spoon into the mixture. He poured the thick liquid at the base of the plant. Tom and Jenny watched with bated breath as it was slowly absorbed by the soil and the plant began to fade brown and curled up. Slughorn eyed the plant then looked at his students, his face was neutral before he broke into a chuckle and patted Tom on the back. "Marvelous work!"

With a wave of his wand he vanished the potion and dismissed them. Jenny and Tom packed their supplies silently. They were the first group to complete the potion and seemed to be the few who had not been struggling. After they exited the classroom Tom stretched then said, "I'm going to track down the Grey Lady while it's still fresh in my mind."

"Where do you think we'll find her?" Jenny asked him as they walked down the hall towards the common room.

Tom shook his head and said, "I'm going to go alone. The Fat Friar only put in a good word for me. I don't need her getting scared off."

She nodded, disappointed but agreed, "Alright, let me know how it goes?"

"I will," he promised.

* * *

That night Jenny couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. She had surrounded herself with various books and papers in her room until her roommates had wanted to go to bed, she then levitated her school supplies to the common room to continue her frantic revising. The common room was empty, giving her sufficient peace for studying by the fireplace light. Around midnight, the door to the common room swung open, causing the half-asleep girl to jump. She looked wide-eyed towards the intruder and recognized Tom walking with shoulders slumped, looking rather defeated.

"Where have you been?" Jenny asked, causing him to look up.

"I was looking for the Grey Lady," he explained.

"You missed every class! Exams are soon, you should have attended," she scolded him.

"She was hard to find." He said with an apathetic shrug as he threw himself on the couch next to Jenny.

She shut her textbook and moved it from the precarious position on her knee to a table. She studied Tom's sullen expression and knitted her eyebrows in worry. "What did the Grey Lady say?"

"She'd never met a Riddle at Hogwarts before." He answered bitterly.

Jenny hummed for a moment thinking, then said, "Alright, maybe we should reopen up the option that your mums magic."

He laughed sarcastically, "Yeah, right. There's a better chance that I was the first Mudblood to get into Slytherin."

She punched him playfully on the arm and with a small smile said, "Oh, get over yourself. If you refuse to believe it's your mother, then maybe the ghosts just didn't remember your dad. They have been alive for a while. I'm sure they don't remember every student."

"What do you propose I do then? Start asking every painting? Maybe they'll remember?" He asked mockingly.

With a sigh she said, "Tommy, you're not using your brain." His face scrunched up in anger, but before he could respond she continued, "Why not look in the library?"

"Okay, who's not using their brain now? Do you know how many books are in there? It'll take years!" He snapped back face growing red, either from frustration or embarrassment of not thinking of that first.

She laughed at his exaggeration, "Not every book is about old families and lineage."

He scoffed, "I don't have every day to shove my head in a book and read for hours in hopes of finding a person not even ghost whisper of."

"I never said you had to." She sniffed back annoyed.

He looked at her for a moment and with purpose, he unclenched his jaw and loosened his muscles. They had tightened in frustration, which he was now misdirecting at Jenny. "What are you doing up so late anyway?" He asked changing the subject.

She looked between the books and him and felt her eyes beginning to water. "I'm going to do terrible on the History of Magic exam. I know it."

He rolled his eyes and picked up her History of Magic textbook from the table, "You're underestimating yourself. I'll help you study for a bit, then we'll get to bed, being sleep deprived isn't going to help you one bit."

She nodded, feeling her worries ebb away as he started quizzing her.

* * *

"What about you guys?" Rosier said causing Jenny to pop up from her slumped position on Tom's shoulder.

"What?" She asked sleepily.

Tom shifted slightly, stretching and said, "He was wondering what we plan on doing this summer."

"Oh." Was all Jenny responded with, feeling embarrassed that they wouldn't have any grand plans like their housemates.

Tom chuckled and answered for both of them with a shrug, "The orphanage is rather boring. We'll probably be reading for most of the summer."

"Sounds like a drag," Avery said. "I'll owl you two some, so you have something to do."

Lestrange and Rosier nodded in agreement. Then Lestrange said, "My father has plans to start training me for Quidditch. I'm going to try out for Chaser next year."

Avery laughed, "You're gonna have competition. Rosier's trying out too," he nudged Rosier who was rubbing the back of his neck embarrassed.

"I'm still trying to decide." He said bashfully.

Tom rolled his eyes, "Why waste your free time with a pointless hobby?"

Lestrange sniffed snobbishly, "It may not be something muggles are familiar with, but Quidditch can actually lead to a very lucrative career if you become a professional."

Before Tom could respond with an equally biting remark, Jenny explained quickly, "Muggles have stuff like futball, so we get it, but isn't it rare to become a professional player?"

Lestrange replied without missing a beat, "That's why I'm going to train to become the best."

Avery pulled a face then said, "Good luck with that, mate."

They talked on for some time before the Hogwarts Express pull to a stop at platform 9¾. The children hurriedly wrapped up their conversation and when they finally exited the train, they waved goodbye as they parted ways for the summer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

 _...He would say it taught him a valuable lesson: that holding on to things will only break your heart._

 _\- Mitch Albom, The Time Keeper -_

* * *

It rained for their first week back at Wool's before breaking into a cloudless bright day, but again the rain picked up a few days later. The extended periods inside hiding from thunderous gray skies were punctuated with brief warm weather. The days dragged on for both Jenny and Tom, their school work had been completed after the first week of summer.

Midway through summer break, Tom swung open Jenny's bedroom door announcing proudly, "I've done it!"

Jenny sat up lazily, hair fluttering as the sticky humid air wafted through her room from the open window as it rushed to flood the orphanage hallway. "What have you done?" She asked blandly while setting the worn book she had been reading down.

He paid no mind to her sour mood and continued, "I've spoken to Mrs. Cole and she gave us permission to go to Diagon Alley."

"We haven't gotten our school supplies list for this year yet." She reminded him, reaching to open her book again with a resigned shake of the head.

"No," he explained irritably, "She's letting us go out and walk around town."

Jenny hopped out of bed. "Like today?" She asked eagerly.

Tom sneered, "Obviously."

She rolled her eyes but shot him a wide grin in spite of herself. "Alright, we should leave now."

He bobbed his head in agreement and added, "We need to stop by my room before we go. Radan hates being stuck inside for too long."

Jenny hummed in agreement, following him out her bedroom door. Their childhood pet had been spending most of his time with Tom, she wasn't particularly disappointed about this but she had grown accustomed to the reptilian's company so the sudden absence was jarring. Tom made quick work of fetching the snake and placing him deep in his pants pocket.

The sun was particularly overwhelming as it shone down on their heads. They deposited Radan in the shade of some bushes near the orphanage's front door. Together they move to the rusted front gate, which squeaked in protest as Tom swung it open. Mrs. Cole's head popped out of one of the windows and she called, "Be back for dinner."

Jenny turned back and smiled towards her, replying, "We will." Tom merely nodded in agreement.

They walked in silence down the muggle streets, Tom navigating them by memory back to Diagon Alley. The wind tugged at the hem of Jenny's skirt, the breeze would have been welcomed but the dry, warm air felt like flames from a fire licking at her skin. She sighed deeply as she wilted under the burning sun. Tom scoffed glancing sideways at her, "Stop pouting, we're nearly there," but in contradiction to his scolding, he absentmindedly rolled up his sleeves.

"I wish it were cooler out," Jenny said, partly aware that she was merely whining to get a rise out of Tom.

"It was this or go while it was raining," he shot back annoyed.

She ignored him, pausing in front of a storefront, pointing through the glass she said, "Record players are getting popular. Aren't you curious what they're like?" She looked back at Tom who had crossed his arms stubbornly.

"What muggles are interested in, is no concern of mine," he shot back arrogantly.

"Yeah, but I'm not a muggle and I'm interested," she drily reminded him.

"That's not my fault." He replied coolly, continuing down the street causing the girl to jog after him, sparing a final, longing glance towards the sleek, black record player in the window.

Tom stopped abruptly in front of a pub. Jenny froze behind him and asked, "Is this it?"

He nodded once and pushed the door open, producing his wand from his pocket almost immediately. They weaved between the bustling patrons at the pub, only a few of which were wearing muggle clothes like them. Tom grabbed her wrist as he led her through, impatiently tugging her when she slowed down. They reached the rear courtyard in record time, leaving Jenny gasping for breath. Tom paid no mind to her, as he carefully counted the bricks, muttering to himself, "Two up, three across." Then after tapping the brick three times with his wand, nothing happened.

Jenny giggled as Tom shot an annoyed glare at the wall, "Maybe we're in a Muggle pub and you've gotten us lost?" She suggested teasingly, ignoring the fact that she recognized the inside of the pub.

His face grew red as he pointedly ignored her, hissing to himself, "No, no, must be three up, two across." To Tom's relief after three taps the wall gave way, revealing Diagon Alley.

Their first stop was to Gringotts to collect some money from Jenny's vault. Although neither child had anything in mind that they planned to purchase, the appeal of having the option was too great to pass up. Several goblins eyed them as they approached the counter. Craning her neck up Jenny said, "I'd like to make a withdrawal."

"Your key?" The goblin behind the tall counter asked expectantly, his voice sounding rather bored. Jenny hurriedly reached into her pocket and produced the brass key Dumbledore had given her almost a year ago. She hesitantly brought the key forward as the goblin's scrutinizing stare burned holes through her. The goblin wasted no time snatching it up and looking it over carefully, after a moment he nodded and hopped down from the desk.

Jenny glanced at Tom, who blinked in returned, they had both forgotten how professional and stiff the goblins that managed Gringotts were. The goblin waddled towards the back of the bank leaving the two children to rush behind him, his small legs quickly carrying him to a cart.

They made quick work of traveling below to the Endall family vault and when they re-emerged from the earth, their pouches jangled with plenty of spare money to fuel their afternoon strut through Diagon.

They stopped by several familiar stores they had visited on their first trip to Diagon Alley. Jenny's first purchase was a book on magical herbs, which led to Tom scoffing and muttering under his breath something about wasting time. Jenny purchased several other books as they explored, but Tom, on the other hand, was showing restraint, only looking at a few items and refraining from buying anything. They ventured deeper into the alley than before, no longer tied to a school supply list to guide their path. When they turned down a darker, twisting alleyway, the friendly atmosphere of Diagon Alley withered away.

Tom held his nose up passively as a pair of older wizards eyed the two children as they turned down a particularly narrow walkway. Jenny supposed they could be staring at their muggle attire, but it became apparent that was not the case when an elderly woman called to them, "You two," they froze. The woman was pointing directly at them, leaving no room for questioning who she was speaking to. "Where are your parents?" She said harshly, "Knockturn Alley is no place for children to be wandering about."

Tom shot a friendly smile towards the woman and without missing a beat said, "Our father is waiting for us in there," pointing towards a grey, ragged looking shop that read 'Borgin and Burkes' on the front.

The elderly woman looked at them hard for a moment, then with a final sneer turned back to her own business, apparently believing Tom.

Jenny was frozen looking back towards the cobbled path that had led them away from Diagon Alley, half wondering if she and Tom would need to run back that way. Tom broke her from her panicked thoughts and provided an answer to her wonderings simultaneously as he tugged her arm towards the worn shop he had claimed their father was in. Passively she followed him, allowing her curiosity about Knockturn Alley to guide her.

They entered the shop, the ding of a bell hitting the wooden frame of the door announced their presence. The shopkeeper watched them from behind his table, a twinkle in his eye as he zeroed in on the children, he asked, "What can I do for you two this afternoon?"

Tom stiffly watched the shopkeeper shift in his spot and answered tersely, "We're just having a look around." As he said this he walked behind some shelving, cutting off the line of sight to the front desk.

Jenny glanced towards the shopkeeper herself, almost apologizing to him for Tom's cold behavior, but when his eyes landed on her, she bristled with nerves and scurried around the corner Tom had disappeared behind. She found him thumbing through a stack of old, worn books that had begun collecting dust against the wall. She sniffed as the dusty air collected under her nose. "This place gives me the creeps," she whispered to him, rubbing the goosebumps on her arms that contradicted the sweat collecting along her hairline.

"Stop acting like a first year," he whispered back, distractedly reading the various titles. "Why don't you," he paused to think about a title that had caught his attention, he pulled the book out and set it beside him, then continued flipping through the stack, "go find something you'd like."

"I don't know what they have here," she complained.

"Then go look around," he huffed, annoyance creeping into his voice.

Crossing her arms she marched away bitterly into a different aisle. Her eyes drifted along the shelves, nervously flicking from one object to another as though she was afraid the strange assortment of items would burn into her retinas if she stared for too long. After passing the third jar of what looked like a pickled human limb she decided to head to the front of the shop and wait for Tom by the door. The safe haven of the front door was promptly turned sour as the shopkeeper placed a friendly, if not a bit unnerving, smile in her direction.

"Searching for anything in particular, love?" He asked silkily.

Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment as she floundered to find her voice, it came first as a squeak but then leveled out, "Uh, no. No, I'm just waiting for my friend to finish shopping."

"Such a shame. Wouldn't you like anything? I'm sure the gentleman would purchase you something, maybe jewelry?" He suggested while gesturing over what appeared to be a human skull towards an assortment of old bronze and silver necklaces.

Jenny shook her head, nervously fidgeting with a loose string on her shirt, she answered, "Jewelry isn't really something I'm interested in."

The wizards smiled back at her, resolve in his eyes as he began working on a sales pitch, "There must be something you desire. Jewels? Art? Maybe a box to store prized possessions?"

Before Jenny could think of a polite way to tell the man no, Tom emerged from his aisle, carrying a small stack of books. Placing them on the counter he shot Jenny a careful glance, seeing that she looked shaken he quickly surveyed her to make sure she wasn't harmed. Satisfied with what he saw, he brushed it off as a silly girl thing and produced his coin pouch.

The shopkeeper flipped through the pile of aged books, causing a billow of dust to rise from the pages, "It'll be three galleons."

Jenny looked expectantly at Tom who made no move to produce the money, instead, he said, "I apologize Mr.—" he paused for the man to supply his name.

"Caractacus Burke," he answered gruffly.

"Mr. Burke," Tom amended, "I would be able to do a galleon for these. The books are in tatters."

Burke's eyes flashed with amusement then shot back, "Two galleons and seven sickles."

"I'll do two galleons," Tom answered with an air of finality.

The storeowner rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment then said, "Alright, two galleons." Tom shook the two galleons from his pouch and place them on the wooden counter with a click. Burke greedily slid them into his palm. "Pleasure doing business with you," Burke said with a nod.

Tom smiled pleasantly back and gathered his books, Jenny followed close to him, eager to leave. She looked back into the store before taking her leave and saw Mr. Burke shoot her a wink and said, "You've got a wise friend there. I'd keep him close or he might rob you blind with a smile on his face." He warned her with a laugh.

She blinked and tried to smile back at the man's odd joke, but it appeared more like a grimace. Hurriedly she slipped out the store, stepping on Tom's heel in her rush to place some distance between her and the shop.

Tom hissed in annoyance at her, but his focus was drawn to a shop across the alley. "That woman from before is looking at us," he warned Jenny. "Don't look," he said sharply as he quickly placed his books under his arm and grabbed Jenny's hand, pulling her unceremoniously towards Diagon Alley.

"Is she mad?" Jenny asked nervously keeping her eyes fixed on her feet as Tom led them down the winding cobbled path away from Knockturn Alley.

"I'm not too keen to stick around and find out," he quipped back. "Did you want to go anywhere else?" He asked as he slowed their pace, apparently satisfied with the distance they've made.

"No more adventures," Jenny moaned, "I want to sit in my room and just relax."

"Alright, we best be heading back anyway. It's going to be getting late by the time we make it to Wool's."

* * *

The sun was low on the horizon as Wool's appeared in their line of sight. The two moved slowly along the sidewalk, both exhausted from a day of walking under the hot sun. Tom was the first to realize something was amiss. His pace picked up and he tugged Jenny by her hand a bit as he hurried closer to the orphanage.

"Where's the fire?" Jenny asked jokingly, "Or are you just missing Wool's?"

Tom ignored her and said, "I think they have Radan."

"What?" She asked confused, but her stomach slipped into her toes upon hearing Tom's tone of voice.

"Those two kids," He explained hurriedly, "that tall one, he has something in his hands." He was practically dragging Jenny as his pace picked up into a near jog.

Tom swung open the gate as they approached the front garden where the two kids had been playing, or rather, it appeared the taller one was chasing a younger, crying boy around with a snake that looked to be Radan. The tall boy had one hand wrapped around the body of the snake holding it still and the other hand held the head, pinching the jaw of the snake forcing its mouth open.

Tom had frozen, his face was mask-like as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Jenny quickly acted, she took one of her new books and flung it toward him, hitting his leg. He paused in his stride looking over at her, more confused than mad. Abandoning her books in a pile on the ground Jenny bent down picking up a palm-sized rock from the grass and hurled the object at the boy as well. The rock being lighter, flew through the air much more efficiently and smacked him on the forehead, leaving a satisfying red mark.

"Leave him alone," the girl screamed angrily towards him. The boy dropped Radan, who fell out of view into the long grass, and he glared towards Jenny. The younger, sniffling boy ran up and hid behind her, apparently making the assumption she was protecting him.

Tom unfroze for the first time since the altercation, "Leave now and we won't tell Mrs. Cole that you were harassing us."

"I wasn't doing that." He shot back, turning his anger to Tom.

"Three against one," was all Tom answered with, shooting a dark look towards the boy.

This was enough to make up his mind and with a final smoldering glare he stormed back into the house. Jenny pulled her arm from the small boy's grip, who had clamped on to her trying to find some comfort. She bent over to look at him and after he wiped his tears from his cheeks she suggested, "Why don't you go inside and see if one of the older girls will scoop you some ice cream?"

The boy nodded mutely in response, face lighting up at the idea. He ran to the kitchen with no further encouragement required. With the yard now empty, Tom dropped his books with little regard and walk to where Radan had fallen. Jenny following his led approached as well.

Radan's body was indented where the hands had gripped him, it was a shade of black Jenny had never seen on his body before. He rolled and twisted in on himself in what the girl could only guess to be agony. The snake had its mouth open in almost a silent scream, she glanced at Tom and wondered darkly if it was silent to him too.

"Maybe we can take him to a vet?" She asked in a whisper, there was no need to be quiet but it felt appropriate.

Tom ignored her presence and suggestions entirely as he leaned over his childhood friends writhing form. He hissed quietly to the creature, tone almost matching her concerned whisper from moments ago. The snake hissed for less than a second if Jenny hadn't have been holding her breath she might have not been able to hear it herself.

With a solemn nod Tom stood and marched with purpose towards the fence, Jenny stood next to the snake, eyes watching Tom as he bent down to grab something from the ground. When he stood at full height she saw he was holding a large, grey stone, the bottom was moist and flecked with brown from the mud. Tom walked back with a solemn expression, with purpose he stopped in front of Jenny, and drop the stone directly on Radan's head. The mud on the stone mixed with blood, more blood than the two orphans could have imagined would be in their small companion. The writhing stopped almost instantly. She looked up at Tom who had his eyes on the motionless tail.

Jenny opened her mouth to say something, but Tom spoke first, "Gather your things, we best be getting in before Mrs. Cole wonders where we are."

She nodded mutely, unsure what reassurance or comfort she would be able to provide or what he would even accept. The books hard-covered backs were dirtied and scratched from the ground. Brushing a bug off the corner of a book she looked up to see Tom was mirroring her actions with meticulous attention to the cover, inspecting it thoroughly. She opened her mouth again, pausing as a million different comforting nothings she could say flickered through her mind. He again spoke before she could find the words, "Let's go, dinners probably ready."

They crossed the empty space, passing the gruesome scene of their bloodied childhood friend without a glance. As they entered the house, rain began to fall, first slowly, then all at once. Throughout dinner, Jenny's eyes were drawn to the window that was speckled with raindrops, towards the earth that was now been rinsed clean of blood. By the time they were excused from the table, the rain had stopped and she watched as the sun faded behind the horizon. She wondered for a fleeting moment if she would ever be able to enjoy a red sunset again.

* * *

 **AN:** Kind of a dark chapter. Second year is coming up here. Thank you for baring with me. There wasn't a lot of information about Tom's first year besides all the that teachers took a liking to him so there was a lot left up to my discretion.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited/followed! It's very encouraging!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter** **9**

* * *

 _One of the best ways of repressing emotions is artificial certainty._

 _-Stefan Molyneux-_

* * *

Jenny woke with a start, lightning flickered in the window illuminating her roommate's sleeping face. Thunder roared over the sound of her bed creaking as she hopped up, the house shuttered in response to the rumble. She walked through the abandoned halls of the orphanage finding her way to the kitchen. Liberating a cup from the cupboard, she filled it with cool water, ignoring another angry rumble from the sky. She only got three gulps of water down before her stomach lurched. Mechanically she placed the cup on the counter, barely aware of these actions as her mind hurriedly plotted the path to the nearest trash can. By the time she was in front of it, the three swallows of water rose from her stomach and eagerly fell into the depths of the bin.

She knelt in front of the bin, stomach heaving. The thunder and lightning were now meeting each other in the sky at the same time, the storm was directly above the orphanage. The lightning flickered through the empty kitchen illuminating Jenny's crumpled form slumped over the trash, the thunder shook the house with an angry vengeance, and her stomach shuttered. She had nothing left to give, but her body kept gagging on its contents as though it was trying to purge something that wasn't quite there, not tangible enough to remove but still enough to make her sick.

When she woke the next day she decided it was grief her body was attempting to remove. She had been sick on the hard to swallow reality of it all.

She was eating cereal that morning when Tom approached her, he smiled at her, it didn't meet his eyes. "Good morning," she greeted him. It was not a good morning.

"Good morning," he echoed back. "Did you sleep well?" He asked.

Jenny passed the box of cereal to Tom as he sat down next to her, "I did," she said producing the correct, although not factual, answer for the question. "Did you get to sleep okay?"

"Yes, the thunder was distant when I was falling asleep, so it didn't bother me," Tom supplied back. Then they fell into silence, the clicking of spoons and the quiet murmur of the other children talking filled the space between them.

After breakfast, Tom asked her to join him in his room and she obliged. His room was oddly the same as it was the day before, except for the chilling absence of their old friend and the new presences of the books from Knockturn Alley which were scattered haphazardly across his desk. One book was cracked open and flipped to a page towards the middle, alongside some text was a sketched image of a mans face contorted in anguish, uncomfortably reminiscent to the sketched images in her Herbology book that were supposed to be used to identify plants. Her eyes flitted away from the disturbing image when Tom's door shut behind her with a click. She turned to look at him, unsure what to say, but Tom spoke first, saving her from the dilemma.

"It's a shame," he drawled, his voice weighted.

"What is?" She asked, feeling like a child waiting for someone to catch her up on the plot of a film she hadn't been paying attention to.

"That we can't use magic outside of Hogwarts," he explained readily. "It really limits the amount of control we have over those," he paused trying to find the words, he ended up landing on, " _muggles_." He spat the word as though it tasted bad in his mouth.

Jenny shrugged, "Not much we can do about it."

He glared at her in an accusing way, as though he blamed her for this rule, "It's inconvenient."

"That's one way to put it," she agreed dryly. They were silent for a moment, the window moaned from the wind pushing against it, the sound filled the quiet. "I'm sorry about Raden," she finally said.

Tom scoffed and rolled his eyes, "He was an animal, a pet at most."

She shook her head in disbelief but swallowed back the few choice words the bubbled to the forefront of her mind. Instead, she said, "I guess," then after a beat, she added, "He was a good friend too." Then she changed the subjects before Tom could be dismissive again. She asked, "Finding anything interesting in your books?"

"No," he answered. "They're all boring. I was cheated out of my two galleons."

Jenny nodded but was unconvinced that was the entire truth. "Why did we even go in there?" She asked, referring to Borgin and Burke's.

"Lestrange mentioned that it carried interesting and rare wizarding artifacts. Naturally, I was curious." Tom said this as he crossed the room, sliding his book shut and caressing the cover thoughtfully.

She nodded, settling on the fact that he was going to remain vague.

* * *

The summer faded into autumn and the two orphans found themselves back on the Hogwarts express shooting away from London. They sat in comfortable silence in the train compartment. This time Rosier found them first, closely followed by Avery, and later Lestrange joined them.

Lestrange and Rosier showed off their broomsticks, both competing in an unspoken rivalry. Jenny couldn't help but feel disappointed by the childishness of the whole thing. She looked over to Tom who appeared to share the same sentiment, he was pointedly reading from one of his Borgin and Burke's books. Whenever she asked him about the books or tried to read over his shoulder, he would dismissively tell her there was nothing of interest in them, but still, he seemed drawn back into them. Once over the summer, she had even tried to sneak a book from his room to read, but he had immediately noticed it was missing and tracked her down to take it away before she had even had the opportunity to crack the spine.

"Endall?" Lestrange's voice brought her back to reality, she moved her eyes off Tom's book and found Lestrange watching her with a single brow up.

"What?" She asked halfheartedly.

He sighed, sounding annoyed, "Who do you think is going to get Chaser this year?"

She looked from Lestrange's confident smirk to Rosier's hopeful smile for a moment then finally answered, "I've seen neither of you play Quidditch, so I wouldn't be able to say."

"Oh come off it," Rosier exclaimed. "You've at least gotta guess."

Jenny crossed her arms and after some consideration asked, "Who's the captain again?"

Avery quickly supplied the answer, "It's Malfoy."

With a small laugh, she answered, "Oh, then that's easy. Neither of you will get it!" Lestrange's smirk faltered and Rosier's smile deflated at these words but she brushed off their disappointment. "He hates us," she concluded, feeling rather pleased that she didn't have to pick a side.

"He hates annoying children," Tom corrected her, not looking up from his book. "He doesn't mind me."

"Wow, he's actually listening!" Avery announced in mock surprise.

Rosier scoffed at Tom, "No mate, he thinks you're a proper git too, I'd bet five galleons on it."

With a sigh, Tom closed his book, "What are you going on about, Rosier?" The arrogance in his voice made him sound particularly cold.

Rosier laughed and said, "Malfoy definitely thinks he's better than all of us, that includes you, Riddle." Then as an afterthought, he added, "Although I think he doesn't mind Endall." He tacked on a wink to Jenny, much to her horror and embarrassment. Avery nodded solemnly in agreement with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked certain her cheeks were pink.

"We're just teasing you. Malfoy's too old for you," Rosier conceded, after sniggering at the look of terror on her face.

Lestrange sniffed pompously and added his two cents, "Well, his parents may want—"

He was cut off by Tom curtly saying, "I believe it's about time to change into our robes."

That was the last they touched on the subject, much to Jenny's dismay. She spent the rest of the evening nervously wondering what Lestrange meant about Malfoy's parents.

* * *

Tom strolled into the common room, smiling like a cat that had caught a mouse. Running his fingers over his slicked back hair with one hand, the other busied itself twirling his wand.

"Hey," Jenny called, jumping up from her chair in front of the fireplace and flipping her Herbology book shut. He paused in his stride allowing her to cross the room to greet him. She smiled up towards him and eagerly asked, "How was the Slugclub?"

Tom's face was carefully drawn into a pleasant smile, but the arrogant shimmer in his eyes betrayed him, "It was good. We met the author of our potions book this meeting."

He pocketed his wand and strolled towards his room, prompting Jenny to follow. "Funny, I asked Lestrange the same thing and he thought this meeting was very dull," she mentioned conversationally.

Tom scoffed, "Of course Lestrange doesn't think it's interesting. He barely understands potions."

He pushed open his bedroom door and Jenny giggled at the sight, "Wow, this is a change." The floor was spotless, the walls were sparsely decorated with some quidditch posters, and each bed was made with varying degrees of tidiness. "What happened?" She asked.

"I won their hearts and minds," Tom simply said with a nonchalant shrug.

A playful smile graced her face, "Well now I'm not sure which bed is yours."

He motioned towards one of the more organized beds that had the excess covers neatly folded under the mattress as opposed to a bed on the left that had the covers hanging limply off the edge. Jenny immediately plopped onto the bedding wrinkling his work. He shot her an annoyed look but sat down next to her all the same.

Tom watched her contemplatively for a moment then said, "I have something I want to show you." He waved his wand summoning a book which flew off the top of his trunk landing promptly in his hands. He expertly flipped through the pages as though he'd memorized exactly where what he wanted to show her was in the book.

"Where exactly did you get this book?" Jenny asked. It didn't look to be one of the books they got from Diagon Alley or Borgin and Burke's, the pages were torn and the leather binding was cracked and peeling away from the paper.

"I got—" Tom's sentence was stopped short as Lestrange swung open the door. He was idly chatting with another boy Jenny hadn't met before.

Both the boys froze upon seeing they were intruding. Lestrange was the first to find his voice, "Uh, sorry," he coughed awkwardly, "we thought you were in the library, Riddle."

"Lestrange, Mulciber, you thought wrong." Tom quipped back, his face set in stony annoyance.

"Right, we're going to go then," Lestrange said sounding quite flustered. Mulciber had been staring at his toes nervously since he spotted Jenny and Tom. She quickly explained this away, assuming that he must simply be shy.

"I'll speak with you later tonight," Tom said firmly to Lestrange, his face unreadable.

"What was that about?" Jenny asked after the door swung shut behind the two boys.

"They're being morons as usual," Tom scoffed dismissively. "Now what was I saying before they interrupted me? Ah, yes I remember. I took your advice actually and tried searching through the library for a trace of my dad."

She eagerly spoke over him, "You found him?"

"No," he said, brow furrowing in disappointment for a moment, then refocusing on the subject he continued, "but I found something interesting about Hogwarts." He tilted the book towards himself and studied the page as he summarized it knowledgeably, "Apparently, Salazar Slytherin wasn't pleased about having dirty blood come to Hogwarts, so he built the Chamber of Secrets and left a monster in there that only his heir can awaken."

Jenny made a face, "This sounds like a myth that you tell first years. Where did you find this book?"

He snapped the book shut with an annoyed huff, "I got it from the Restricted Section of the library. They wouldn't bother putting myths in the Restricted Section."

With an exasperated sigh, she asked, "How did you even get a book from the Restricted Section?"

"Professor Binn's wrote me a note for research purposes." Tom snapped indignantly.

"Okay, let's suppose this is real. How does the heir reawaken the monster? How long can the monster even lay dormant?"

He closed his eyes in irritation and reopened them slowly, narrowing them when they met her's, "I just explained all I know to you. I'm no expert, I just thought it was interesting and I wanted to show you."

"Okay, but it really doesn't even say how the heir is supposed to control the monster?" She asked. "You must be overlooking something. Let me see," she reached over to grab the book from him, but he yanked it away from her protectively.

"No," he said sharply, eyes wide for a moment before he collected himself. Then as though the knee jerk reaction never occurred, he set his face in a neutral look and evenly said, "I'm not allowed to let people read a book from the Restricted Section unless they have a note too. I don't want to get into trouble."

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "Well, I wouldn't tell anyone if you were to." She watched him carefully, but his face didn't betray him again. Her thoughts buzzed with worry and one reverberating thought came to the forefront of her mind like a grass stain on a white shirt. Her stomach flipped as she confronted this realization.

She found herself in the bathroom alone that night, washing her face and brushing her teeth. She stared at herself hard in the mirror, her own pale face stared back with a blank expression and the truth was written clearly in her eyes: 'He's keeping something from me.'

The next morning Jenny found herself distractedly picking at a lump of scrambled eggs at the Slytherin table. She was up early for a weekend, only a few students had made their way out of their respective common rooms, the majority being Ravenclaws. It took about thirty minutes for a familiar face to enter the Great Hall, the remainder of her eggs were cold and just being shuffled from one side of the plate to the other at that point.

"Morning, Endall." Avery yawned taking a seat next to her.

On her other side, Rosier plopped down looking equally as tired, "Morning." He echoed his friend lazily.

"Hey guys, have a late night?" She asked.

"No." Rosier answered the same time Avery said, "Something like that."

Jenny blinked and narrowed her eyes as she looked between the two boys, "Oh?" Was all she said back.

Avery and Rosier looked to one another wordlessly urging the other to explain. Before either thought of an explanation, Tom stalked into the Great Hall, approaching the trio and standing directly behind Rosier.

"Move," Tom demanded gruffly. Rosier slid over without comment, allowing Tom to take a seat next to Jenny.

"Don't be rude," Jenny chided, but Tom chose to ignore her, instead snatching up a piece of bacon from a nearby plate. "Is everyone in a mood this morning?" She wondered aloud.

Tom glanced over at her and asked, "Are Avery and Rosier being gits?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Avery's fork freeze halfway to his mouth. "No nothing like that." She explained, "They're just tired and acting evasive," she gave Avery a nudge and mock glare.

"Evasive?" Tom repeated dryly.

"Yeah," she answered, leaning forward to look at Rosier from the other side of Tom. "So, were you out sneaking around after hours? Is that why you won't tell me what kept you two up?" She asked teasingly.

"They were being tutored by me actually," Tom answered while buttering a piece of toast. She looked at him expectantly and he elaborated, "They needed help," he explained with a shrug. "We do have to know Everte Statum for Defense Against the Dark Arts before the Holiday."

"That kept you up all night?" She asked not bothering to hide her doubt.

"Not all night," Tom answered, "just into the early hours of the morning."

"You're a terrible teacher, it only took me an hour to figure it out."

"No," he replied bitterly, "they're just daft."

She scoffed, then turned to Avery, "Aren't you going to defend your honor? I can only tell him to not be rude so many times."

Avery blanched and looked from Jenny to Tom as though he was in the middle of an interrogation. He shrugged after a second, muttered, "I don't mind," and began focusing intently on pealing his hard-boiled egg.

Jenny tutted and turned to Rosier. "What about you? Stand up to him! If I'm the only one keeping him in check his ego could destroy the world," she exclaimed with mock urgency.

Rosier's face contorted into an uncomfortable expression as Tom and Jenny's attention was brought to him. "Defense has always been tough for me," he explained poking at his cereal with an abnormally large amount of interest.

Jenny huffed annoyed and rhetorically wondered, "Why is everyone so aloof today?"

"Why are you being so nosy?" Tom shot back, hostility seeping into his tone.

"I'm only trying to have a conversation," she snapped defensively. "If you have a problem with the topic why don't you picked something to talk about."

There was a hush that fell over the four, Tom was glaring daggers at Jenny like a petulant child, Avery had run out of eggshell to peel back and was now busying himself with selecting a muffin, and Rosier was hidden from Jenny's line of sight behind Tom.

"That's what I thought." She quipped after it became apparent no one planned to end the prolonged silence.

"Why don't we go to the library," Tom suggested dropping his half-eaten toast on a plate.

"I'd rather not," Jenny moaned. "There's fresh snow outside." With winter break approaching the school grounds were quickly beginning to resemble a snow globe.

"All the more reason to stay inside and study." He said, sounding less annoyed and more exasperated.

She considered this for a moment then concluded, "Alright, you can stay in and study. I'll just go outside on my own and explore the Forbidden Forest." A cheeky grin was plastered on her face as horror and annoyance danced across his face.

Much to her dismay, his final expression wasn't resignation like she had hoped, it instead was a look of firm resolve. "Very well. Avery," he said commandingly, "watch Jenny since she wishes to act like a child and play outside."

"Alright, Riddle," Avery answered without hesitation.

"Rosier," Tom continued, "I need your presence in the library."

"You're such a jerk!" Jenny huffed standing up. "You're always in the library or reading your stupid Borgin and Burke's books. We don't even have classes tomorrow, what are you even studying?" She didn't wait for an answer though, instead, she turned and marched out of the Great Hall.

She stormed through the hallway all the way to the Slytherin common room without being stopped, much to her disappointment. When she brushed passed Lestrange in the common room he shot her a questioning look, but any comment he had was withheld after Jenny cast a withering glare his direction. Once in her room, she dug through her trunk finally finding her Herbology book which she opted to read while calming down, although she mostly looked at the different drawings of plants and tried to glare holes in the pages.

By noon she became placated and came to terms with the fact that Tom was not going to send someone to fetch her, he was going to stay in the library all day regardless of her opinion. A resigned sigh escaped her lips as she placed the Herbology book on the bed. She returned to her trunk once more, slowly she untangled a green and silver scarf from a plain blue scarf Ms. Cole had knitted for her from the yarn of an old jumper. Once the green and silver scarf was free she pulled on a woolen petticoat and wrapped the scarf securely around her neck.

It was colder than Jenny had anticipated, but with stubborn resolve, she continued her stroll along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There was a smooth, glossy layer of ice over everything that made a satisfying crunch with each step as her shoe broke through to the untouched snow. She paused and stood frozen as the wind swung her scarf in sync with the tree branches, pensively she stared into the forest listening to the branches creek in the wind, it looked so harmless she couldn't help but wonder why it was forbidden to enter.

A hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to jump and reach for her wand, but a familiar chuckle calmed her nerves. "Hey, Avery," she sighed.

"Hey," he responded. "I didn't mean to scare you. I had assumed you heard me coming."

She merely nodded understandingly in reply, eyes fixed on a snapped twig that hung loose on a tall branch, swinging wildly in the wind.

"Uh, what are you doing by the forest?"

"Walking," she quipped, sensing Tom's influence in the conversation.

"It doesn't look like that to me," Avery said the teasing smile evident in his voice. "You've been just standing here for the past five minutes."

"I got bored of walking," she passively answered with a shrug, surprised she had been there that long.

"Alright weirdo," he said through a laugh.

They fell into silence for a moment while Jenny considered her next words carefully. "Just because Tom told you to, doesn't mean you have to hang out with me," she finally said, keeping her eyes trained on the same snapped twig as it danced freely in the breeze.

There was silence, she almost wasn't sure if he was still standing beside her, but she didn't dare take her eyes off the branch to check. Then she heard him inhale and speak just above a hush, "I like you Endall, you're good company. Riddle doesn't need to tell me to be around you for me to want to be around you."

She finally looked towards him, "Right, so we're friends?"

An easy smile slipped onto his face and he answered, "I suppose we are."

* * *

 **AN:** Thank you for reading. Sorry about the delay and evening release. I had a crazy week and ended up proofreading this chapter at work.

So something I wanted to bounce off y'all, I am getting ideas while writing this that don't really fit where I want this story to go or fit Jenny as a character. I was thinking that once I complete this story I would start working on another story that's a DarkOC/Tom Riddle. Is anyone interested in this? Of course, this is still really early on and I'm still not sure about the plot yet, but I'm just putting it out there.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

 _There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said — no. But somehow we missed it._

 _-Tom Stoppard-_

* * *

"You gotta talk to him eventually," Avery said as he carefully grabbed their mouse before it jumped off the edge of the table.

"I'll talk to him as soon as he apologizes for being a git," Jenny hissed back. She waved her wand at the mouse and muttered an incantation but it didn't transform into a teacup like it was supposed to.

"Bloody hell. Why are you both being so stubborn about this?" Avery groaned.

"I think I'm being perfectly reasonable," she insisted, causing Avery to scoff and mumble something under his breath.

Tom and Jenny hadn't spoken for a week. Tom was firmly convinced that going to the library was nothing to be sorry for, and Jenny was livid that he didn't get it. They had both been pointedly ignoring each other and sitting apart in class. It got to the point when even the professors began to notice.

"Ms. Endall, could you please speak with me after class," Professor Dumbledore requested after the last Transfiguration lesson before Christmas break. He dismissed the other children, leaving just Jenny in the room with him.

"Yes, sir?" Jenny asked, standing and approaching the professor at his desk.

"I've noticed Mr. Riddle and yourself have not been working as partners in class lately." He paused, a pensive look blanketed his face as a thin hand ran down the length of his beard. "Has there been something that's bothering you?"

Jenny considered this for a moment, then said, "No, sir. Tom and I are just having a disagreement."

"If you ever need some guidance, I find that my best choices come after a good night's rest," Dumbledore advised her cryptically.

"Right," Jenny said blandly.

"Have a good holiday, Ms. Endall."

"You too, Professor," she answered back, taking her leave.

As soon as she entered the hallway, Tom was immediately by her side.

"What?" She huffed, trying to walk faster in an attempt to leave him behind.

His long legs easily kept pace with her as he asked, "What did Dumbledore want?"

She scoffed and snapped, "I'm not talking to you. You don't value my time."

"Why won't you tell me?" He insisted.

"Why are you still talking?" She shot back.

"Alright fine!" He said, raising his voice slightly. She stopped and looked at him with her arms crossed. "You win. Okay?"

She blinked, mouth pulled into a grimace. "And?" She urged him.

"And?" He echoed sounding harassed.

"Yes, and," Jenny confirmed with growing frustration.

"And I'll try to spend more time with you?" He tried.

"And?" She asked still not satisfied.

Tom's face grew red with a mix of anger and humiliation as he muttered, "And I'm sorry."

Jenny smiled, "Was that so difficult?"

"You make everything difficult," he said, sounding defeated.

She ignored his comment as she explained, "Professor Dumbledore was just concerned because you and I weren't talking."

"That was it?" Tom asked, skepticism evident in his voice.

"He also warned me about my sleeping habits," she supplied sarcastically.

"I'm not joking, Jenny," he snapped.

"I wasn't either," she said with a shrug. "Why does it even matter? Were you expecting him to ask me something?"

"No," he said. "I'll see you at dinner. I'm going to the library."

In disbelief, she laughed and jokingly called after him, "You're insufferable."

* * *

"Happy Christmas, Tom."

"Oh yes, happy Christmas," he said back absentmindedly, barely looking up from his book as he came from the boy's dormitory.

Jenny smoothed a wrinkle out of her skirt and motioned for Tom to sit next to her in front of the common room's fireplace. He took a seat, still skimming the pages of his book intently. With an impatient tut, she yanked the book from his grip and placed it on her lap so she would have his full attention.

"I got you something," she explained. Hurriedly she added, "You don't have to worry about getting me anything. I know we've never really been the gift exchanging type." She pulled a small box into view which had been wrapped carefully in newspaper. She pushed it hesitantly into Tom's hand and watched as his eyes raked over the small parcel.

"Thank you," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers.

Her eyes rolled in response as she said teasingly, "You don't even know what's in it. You can't thank me yet."

"Thank you for the thought," he amended with a smirk. He hooked his finger in the edge of the newspaper and tore the wrapping away revealing a small blue cardboard box. Pausing for a moment he looked towards Jenny as though asking permission to open it. She was watching his face carefully and nodded, urging him to continue.

He popped the lid off the box revealing a golden disk. The top was detailed with an etching of snakes and vines both entangled in one another, looping around the perimeter of the circle. Lifting the object from the box, he ran his fingers against the smooth center and along the bumpy etching. The center was so polished the two orphans could see themselves looking back, Jenny's face pulled into a nervous smile and Tom's eyes masked with a calculating stare, watched them. He ran his finger along the far edge of the disk and felt a hinge, on the opposite side was a small button. His finger lingered on the button for a moment, allowing the cool metal to warm in his palm. Upon depressing the button the glossy, golden mirror swung forward revealing a clock and a note fell into Tom's lap.

He placed the pocket watch gingerly into the box, snatched up the note, and unfolded it. His eyes were met by Jenny's large, looping writing which read, 'Happy Christmas, Tommy! Maybe with this pocket watch, you'll be able to keep track of how long you're in the library. - Jenny'.

Tom looked up from the note to see Jenny's anxious eyes studying his expression. "Thank you, this will be very useful," he said with a smile as he slipped the watch into his robe pocket.

"Oi, Riddle," a person called from across the common room. Jenny looked up confused, but soon recognized the owner of the voice as Mulciber, Lestrange's friend. She had seen him several times in passing, mostly hanging around Lestrange or Tom, but she had never been given the opportunity to directly interact with him. She had hoped to take advantage of him staying over the Christmas break, but he mostly kept to himself when Tom didn't need him.

"What, Mulciber?" Tom nearly snarled, not even attempting to hide his irritation.

Mulciber paled, losing his nerve, "I wanted to let you know that I think I found something."

"Found what?" Jenny asked.

"After reading about the Chamber of Secrets I got curious as to where that could be located." Tom explained, "Remember last year? I found a private common room and when I tried to show you it was gone. I think maybe the entrance could be tied to that."

"You're still stuck on that story?" She asked with a scoff.

Tom's face darkened, "It's not a story."

"If it's not, why find the entrance?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and shot back, "Why not?"

She blinked and stared at him for a moment. She trusted him didn't she? Besides, Salazar Slytherin's heir is supposedly going to cleanse the school of dirty blood and Tom himself didn't think his mother was a wizard, he wouldn't be safe from the monster if it was released. She smiled and simply responded, "Alright, but don't be disappointed when your story isn't real."

He considered this for a moment and nodded, then he spoke to Mulciber who had been silent throughout their exchange, "Alright, show me what you found." He stood and followed Mulciber out of the common room leaving Jenny alone.

She sat staring at the flames waving on the fire for a moment and idly ran her fingers along the corner of the book in her lap. Then it struck her, this was the book Tom had been reading. Mulciber must have distracted him causing him to forget to retrieve it from her. Her eyes floated over to the common room door guiltily waiting for Tom to barge in and demand his book back, but it didn't come.

She flipped through the book, scanning the pages. The material was very informative, but also very gruesome, it went into detail descriptions of how each spell affected its targets, or more appropriately victims. She curiously allowed her eyes to jump from the exhaustive explanation of the Imperius Curse to the word kill, which was brought up a lot in the description for the Killing Curse. The incantation, Avada Kedavra, was underlined lightly in pencil, seemingly by the previous owner of the book. Which was quite odd, Jenny couldn't help but ponder what a wizard would be doing with a muggle pencil.

Before she had much time to consider this, her eyes became fixated on familiar handwriting, also written in pencil along the margin of the book next to a spell entitled, Cruciatus Curse. Tom's smooth handwriting spelled outSilencio, the spell for silencing a target. Her eyes slid down along the book's text and, to her horror, it explained in detail the pain a person under the effects of the spell would feel. Below the description was a printed in sketched image of a person appearing to be writhing on the ground, face contorted into an oddly familiar look of anguish, the bold text next to it simply said the incantation,Crucio **.**

She found herself frozen, willing the pencil markings off the page, but they wouldn't budge. Her mind raced as she thought of Tom, her Tommy, flipping through the same pages as she was, although instead of horror he felt curious, maybe even a scientific distance from it. She could picture him sitting in the quiet of the night in the orphanage studying the text and penciling in notes within the margins. A sadistic voice in her head whispered darkly, 'Maybe even tips for better use.' Knives dug into her heart as she shoved the thought away unable to bare considering that possibility. A wicked part of her entertained the idea for a moment, producing the evidence that lingered under her nose, Tom's roommate's sudden change in cleaning habits, Lestrange's rapidly depleting snootiness, Avery and Rosier's placated response to Tom's demands and constant belittling. Bile crawled up her throat as she snapped the book closed.

With a single shaking hand she held firm to the book and walked to Tom's room, legs wobbling like a newborn calf. She dropped the book on top of the other Borgin and Burke's books stacked on his trunk which caused the pile to topple over. Feeling very ill she peeled back Tom's bedding and laid down, pulling his blankets over her head and hiding from the light in the comforting safety of her childhood friend's scent. Her nerves tore through her as she shivered under the thick blanket and curled herself into a ball. Soon her breath evened out, shortly after her heartbeat matched her steady breathing. Sleep slipped her mind away, sparing her from reality.

She woke to Tom leaning over her, a questioning, if not slightly worried, look in his eyes. "Good morning," was all he said to her.

"Hi," her mouth choked out.

"You're in my bed," he stated the obvious.

She nodded, face flushed in embarrassment as she sat up, leaning her head against the wall.

"You haven't slept in my bed since we left Wool's," he said, suspicion creeping into his voice as he began drawing his own conclusion. His eyes scanned over her for a moment, laying heavy scrutiny on her bare arms and face. "Has someone been bothering you?" His voice was trained with cautious calmness.

"No, I—" she started but Tom spoke over her.

"Don't lie to me," he insisted. "You used to only sleep in my bed when you were scared or nervous."

"I was just waiting for you to get back from the library," she quickly lied. "I accidentally fell asleep." Then she added as an afterthought, "Hogwarts isn't Wool's, I'm not being picked on. Besides, barely anyone is here over Christmas to do that."

He studied her expression for a moment then finally nodded, accepting her word as truth. "I wasn't in the library though," he corrected her.

"You always go there. I had assumed that was where whatever Mulciber wanted to show you was," she explained easily.

Tom shook his head, "No, he thought he found that common room, but he ended up just getting us lost." He rolled his eyes in annoyance, but his line of sight got caught on something at the end of the bed. Jenny followed his stare to the Borgin and Burke's book he had accidentally left with her.

"I brought it back up. Since you forgot it in your rush to see what Mulciber found," she explained hoping to get ahead of any suspicions Tom may have.

"I see," he murmured distractedly, a clouded expression masked his face.

"What time is it," she asked trying to divert his attention.

"It's almost dinner time," he answered looking back towards her.

"I'm going to go freshen up then," she announced climbing out of his bed and rushing to the door. "See you there?"

"Hmm," she turned to look at him, he was running his fingers along the edges of the books and looking over the one she had flipped through with heavy scrutiny.

"Tom?" She asked, causing him to look up.

His expression was unreadable as he said, "Yes, see you then."

He never did come to dinner that evening.

* * *

"We're friends right?" The question bubbled from her mouth without much thought as Avery moved his queen.

They had fallen into a routine after everyone returned from Christmas break. Jenny would sit with Tom in the library after classes. Tom would read whatever it was he was interested in that day and Jenny would revise for classes. Afterward, they would return to the common room, Tom would go to his room to finish homework, and Avery would play a game of Wizard Chess with Jenny as Rosier coached her by whispering tips. Once Avery beat her, Tom would usually return to the common room and request Lestrange, Rosier, Avery, and Mulciber to join him for a tutoring session on Defense Against the Dark Arts. Jenny once tried to come with but Tom refused to allow her, saying some rubbish about her not needing extra help and just being a distraction.

"Of course we're friends," Avery assured her as he watched his pawn get demolished by one of her bishops.

"So we would tell each other things right?" She asked sheepishly.

Avery looked up from the chess board, eyes narrowing as he teasingly said, "Are you trying to distract me? Is Rosier teaching you dirty tricks?"

Rosier butted in and defended himself, "This is all her! I've been zoned out the last three turns."

"That's not a good thing," Jenny scolded with a laugh, "you're supposed to be helping!" Then she looked back to Avery humor leaving her expression as she asked, "But really if I told you two something I would need your discretion."

Avery's eyes flickered between Jenny to Rosier and back to Jenny before he finally nodded and said, "Rosier and I won't say anything. Is it bad?"

"I—" she hesitated, picking her next words with deliberation, "I don't know."

"That's good," Rosier piped up.

"Well," Jenny reminded him, "just because I'm uncertain doesn't mean it's good."

"Get on with it," Avery moaned. "All this beating around the bush is nerve-racking."

"I was reading—" Jenny began but stopped short as she spotted Tom emerging from the dormitory.

"You haven't finished your game yet?" Tom asked, strolling across the common room to the table they had gathered around.

"Not yet," Jenny answered, eyes scanning the board to avoid Tom's questioning gaze. Avery had always won before it was time for their tutoring session.

"You're one move away from winning, Avery," Tom noted dryly. "Distracted?"

Avery looked pale as he hurriedly moved his piece. They watched in silence as Jenny's king was beaten down.

"We'll get him next time," Rosier muttered to Jenny while patting her back.

"Not with your strategies obviously," Tom said sarcastically. Then changing gears he listed, "Avery, Rosier, Lestrange, and Mu— Bloody hell where's Mulciber?"

Lestrange perked up in his corner near the fireplace and answered, "He got detention."

"How?" Tom's voice was dripping with venom.

"I don't know," Lestrange answered, appearing to regret having ever produced an answer in the first place.

"Doesn't matter I suppose," Tom finally said, anger dropping from his face in a second, transforming back to a neutral mask. He turned and began walking to his dormitory, the three remaining boys following close behind, leaving Jenny to clean up the game of Wizard Chess.

The fireplace illuminated her as she went through the repetition of repairing the pieces. She'd gather the chunks of each piece, wave her wand, and continued until the set was whole again. Although she was sure there was a more efficient way to repair the set, she found herself doing it this way each evening as it was a nice time filler when she didn't want to go back to her room yet. This also gave her an opportunity to practice casting nonverbal spells.

She had just completed repairing all the black pieces and was beginning to work on the white, repairing the queen first, when Mulciber walked into the common room, huffing like he had just run across the castle.

"Mulciber," Jenny called to him.

He nodded towards her in acknowledgment as he hurriedly moved towards the boy's dormitory.

"Wait," she said, dropping the queen, allowing it to break again on the floor in her rush to stop him. Her legs quickly carried her in front of his path, causing him to stop short before he reached the stairs.

"What?" He asked gruffly, brow dropping in irritation.

She readied herself as she strategically mentioned, "Tom's angry with you." Eagerly she studied the effects her statement had on him. His eyes widened and the blood drained from his cheeks, which was quite an accomplishment as they had been bright red from running. "I would give him time to calm down. Maybe we can play some Wizard Chess, then if he gets mad about you not coming to tutoring you can blame me and say that I asked for some company."

She saw the resignation in his face moments before he agreed with a soft, "Alright."

They made quick work of setting up the new game. The fireplace housed just a few muted flickering flames by the time Mulciber said, "Check," indicating he was one move away from checkmate.

When Jenny's knight got pulverized for the second time that night she said, "Good game." Then after a moment, she asked, "Why did you get detention?"

He blinked, surprised by the sudden line of questioning, "Er, Professor Dumbledore caught me in the halls after hours."

"Why were you out after hours?" She asked with little tact.

"Endall, I really gotta be going," he said, uncomfortably tugging on his shirt.

She nodded once and he got to his feet, retreating from the room as though it caught on fire. She called after his fleeing form, "Goodnight."

* * *

 **AN: The state of this story:** _(nothing bad promise)_. Okay, so as of chapter 9 this fanfiction was 30k words. I originally started this story thinking it would only get that long or to 50k. Obviously, we are nowhere near the end of this story. So here's the plan, I've had a loose, not public, update schedule set in my head, for the sake of full disclosure, I plan on updating this every other Friday so today is 5/10/19 so next update will be Friday of 5/24/19.

 **Thank you all who reviewed. I've been having a very rough time lately and reviews always put a smile on my face**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

* * *

 _Always sleep with one eye open. Never take anything for granted. Your best friends might just be your enemies._

— _Sara Shepard, The Lying Game_ —

* * *

Jenny's hand was firmly locked into Tom's grip as he tugged her away from the Forbidden Forest.

"What were you thinking?"

She stumbled over a small rock that had been hidden among the long, bright green grass. Tom's grasp on her hand saved her from completely falling over. "I wasn't going to go in," she insisted helplessly. "Stop walking so fast," she pleaded, yanking him back, which only served to slow his stride but not stop it.

"Am I really supposed to believe you had absolutely no intention of going in?" He asked, skepticism evident in his voice.

She nodded and countered with, "Yes, because you should trust me."

He came to a stop and loosened his grip on her hand. This was much to Jenny's relief, as her fingers were beginning to turn a scarlet shade. "Are you implying, that by not allowing you to deliberately put yourself in danger, I don't trust you?" He questioned her indignantly.

"No, I'm saying that you should trust that I'll keep myself out of danger," she quipped back while gingerly attempting to pull her hand free from his viselike hold.

"Stop squirming," he sighed sounding annoyed as he started to walk again, pulling her in the direction of the castle. "I found you almost a yard into the forest! If you had no intention of entering you wouldn't have step foot in there in the first place."

"I thought I saw something," she said quickly in her defense.

"So we're just following any beast into the forest now?" Tom asked incredulously.

She huffed, "I was just curious, normally the forest is so," she paused trying to find a proper word to describe it, after some consideration she decided on, "silent."

"Yes," he said dryly, "because the creatures kill people before they can scream."

She rolled her eyes as they entered the cool corridors of the school. Tom paused for a moment, apparently aware of how them holding hands looked to everyone else. "If I let you go do you promise not to do anything irrational?" He asked, carefully watching her face for any indication of a lie.

"Yeah," she answered with a resigned sigh.

"Good," he said, dropping her hand. "Come on, I'll escort you back to the common room."

She mockingly gasped and said, "You? Going to the common room and spending time with friends?"

"No," he tutted a look of annoyance danced across his face at her mocking, "I actually have something I need to attend to, but I can't focus with you off trying to make yourself a casualty."

"But it's just so fun," she said sarcastically, purposefully poking his buttons.

"So I've heard," he muttered unamused. "Luckily someone should be available to babysit you."

"I don't need babysitting," she mumbled back but slinked behind him all the same.

The common room was filled with their housemates chatting idly to each other, presumably trying to get as much time together as possible before the school year ended.

"My father is taking us on a vacation to Switzerland." They heard a stout girl announce smugly to one of her classmates before her voice blended back into the quiet rumble of conversations.

"Professor Kettleburn's properly lost his marbles this time." An older boy moaned to Malfoy, who seemed to not be listening as he distractedly waved his wands towards a pile of books another student was holding.

"Come along, stop dragging your feet," Tom urged Jenny with a light nudge towards his room.

Bristling she said, "Don't push."

"Then hurry up." He huffed impatiently while shoving the dormitory's door open.

There was a hush that fell over the game of Exploding Snap Avery, Rosier, Lestrange, Mulciber, and an unfamiliar boy were playing.

"Alright you four let's go," Tom said sounding rather bored.

"Four?" Jenny asked.

"Yes," he confirmed to her. Then raising his voice so it carried across the room clearly, he announced, "Avery will be staying to give you some company."

"I can be left alone you know," she whined.

He glared at her from the corner of his eye and simply drawled, "For some reason, I have my doubts."

"Whatever," she sulked, flopping dramatically on to Tom's bed. She didn't sit back up until the door shut indicating they had left.

Avery was picking up cards and carefully sliding them into a pouch for storage. Jenny watched as he meticulously switched the cards to all face the same direction so they appeared uniform, save for the different images each card possessed. When he completed this task he placed them on a desk, presumably his, and sat down in the oak chair that was the desk's companion. He picked up a book and carefully opened it, then glanced up towards Jenny and froze.

"I had assumed you were going to pout all day," he explained with a playful smile as he placed the book back on the desk and teasingly said, "I won't read in your presence, I know how it offends you."

She scoffed, "Only when Tom does it."

With a nod, he said, "Riddle does enjoy a good book."

They fell into silence for a moment before Jenny asked on a whim, "Who was that, that you all were playing Exploding Snap with?"

"Who? Rosier?" Avery asked jokingly. After a pointed look from Jenny, he said, "His name is Nott. Riddle introduced us all shortly after Christmas break was over."

With a frown, she asked, "Why wasn't I introduced to him?"

He shrugged, "Dunno."

"Whatever," she sniffed, folding her arms. She sat like that for a moment, trying to think of a way to get back at Tom. Her mind quickly jumped to his trunk as she wondered if she could steal another look at Tom's Borgin and Burke's books. Standing she moved to Tom's trunk and popped it open.

"What are you doing?" Avery asked, walking towards Jenny in order to anxiously watch over her shoulder as she shuffled through Tom's belongings, pushing them back and forth.

"They're not here," she said slightly disappointed.

"What isn't?" Avery asked.

She studied him. He looked uncomfortable, probably because she was just digging around in another person's possessions, although she hardly thought Tom counted as 'another person' for her.

"Well," she began, considering the fact that she had already almost told him once, "I'm going to tell you a secret."

His expression was guarded as he gave a solemn nod, "What?"

"Please don't tell Tom," she prefaced, "but, I read one of his Borgin and Burke's books during Christmas and it was," she hesitated, then finished with the word, "interesting."

"Interesting how?" His face was completely blank now.

"It had Unforgivables in it," she blurted out.

"Oh," was all Avery said back.

Stun silence stretched between them until Jenny couldn't take it anymore and she spewed out the thought that had been haunting her since Christmas, "Do you think Tom would ever use an Unforgivable Curse?"

Avery's eyes scanned Tom's wrinkled bedding as he simply answered, "You've known Riddle longer than anyone here, Endall. Do you think he's capable of that?"

She blinked and bit her lip, after a moment of consideration she mumbled, "I'd like to believe not." Then she added, "Please don't tell him I read one. I don't know why he so protective of those stupid books."

"I won't," he said, still watching the blanket. Then abruptly his eyes shot to her as he asked, "Would you like to join me for lunch? I think we might starve if we wait up for the guys to get back."

* * *

Tom was sitting across from Jenny in the library. She watched as his eyes narrowed in annoyance at his book as a first year seated a table over nervously tapped their wand again the edge of a book.

"Let's study in your room," Jenny said suddenly, causing Tom to look up.

"Alright, it is getting rather crowded in here," he agreed, hurriedly gathering his books.

The halls were rather empty for the time of day, most likely due to the fact, most students were busy revising in preparation for the school year coming to an end. They were able to navigate the halls and reach the common room in record time. Tom wasn't pulled aside or greeted by any older students once, much to both his and Jenny's relief.

When they reach Tom's bedroom, Avery and Rosier were already seated on the floor playing a game of Wizard Chess.

"Out," Tom ordered sounding rather bored.

"Be nice!" Jenny barked at Tom, causing him to shoot a glare her direction.

He rephrased curtly, "We need the room. Lestrange is in the common room, I'm sure he could use some company." He looked at her flashing a sarcastic smirk and asked, "Better?"

She sighed and said, "Sorry guys," to Avery and Rosier as they left the room in a rush.

Tom shut the door behind them and sat at his desk, Jenny following suit taking a seat at Avery's desk. They worked in silence, Jenny feverishly scribbling an essay for Transfiguration while Tom scanned through the pages of a book from the Restricted Section of the library. He had checked this one out on the grace of a note Professor Slughorn had written for him.

"I can't take it anymore," Jenny announced, voice rising dramatically. "If I have to write one more word I'll explode."

Tom chuckled as he shut his book, leaving a small scrap of paper in between the pages to mark his spot. "I highly doubt you'll explode," he noted, eyes twinkling with amusement as she glared back at him.

"I'm speaking figuratively you git," she quipped as she crossed the room and sat on Tom's bed.

He pivoted in his seat, now facing her, he crossed his legs. Watching her thoughtfully he suggested, "If you truly can't bare to write another word, maybe we could have a chat instead."

"Alright," she said, suddenly regretting her decision. She was almost certain he was going to scold her for going into the Forbidden Forest.

To her shock he led the conversation with, "Do you trust me?" Her mouth nearly popped open. He shook his head and reworded his sentence, "You should trust me," mirroring the words she had spoken to him earlier that week. He sounded firm, it was not up for question.

"Why would I not trust you?" She asked, curiosity sparking her interest.

"There's no reason in particular. We're a team, it would do us no good to be sneaking around behind each other's back." He explained.

Jenny raised her eyebrows and offhandedly said, "Right," starting to grow confused.

Tom continued, "If you were to suspect me of doing something I would want you to ask me, rather than going around asking other people. It looks bad for both of us."

"Right," this time understanding the point he was getting at. "Avery told you," she said working to keep her voice level.

"He's loyal," he reminded her, sounding smug.

She pursed her lips to conceal a frown. "You mean like a friend? Because he's my friend too," she insisted stiffly, suddenly feeling rather foolish.

"Yes, yes," Tom agreed dismissively. "Now what was it you asked him? I want to hear it directly from you." He leaned back in his chair, hands linked behind his head as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"I feel silly now. It was a stupid thought really. We had just had a Defense Against the Dark Arts class about it and — I just got carried away," she tried to explain.

"Ask me, Jenny," he said firmly, leaning forward meeting her at eye level.

She inhaled, the air had thinned making it almost impossible not to feel out of breath. The words came out in a quick string, "Would you ever use an Unforgivable Curse?"

Silence filled the room. Jenny could hear laughter pouring in from the common room. She couldn't help but wonder which choices had led her to this room when she could have been playing Exploding Snap instead. What in her and Tom's life had put them in this moment? She hated whatever it was.

"Never," he declared a nonchalant smile spilled over his expression.

Lips twisting up unnaturally, she smiled back. Sounding doubtful she said "Okay. It's just—" but she stopped herself.

"What?" Tom urged her to continue.

"It's almost like the others—" she paused, what she almost said was 'fear you', instead she corrected this to, "treat you different."

A cocky laugh bubbled from his lips, "It's brilliant isn't it?" She grimaced unsure that was the right word for it. He ignored her expression as he said, "All those purebloods treating me like I'm actually somebody. It's certainly an improvement from last year." He was mostly talking to himself at this point.

"You don't think it's a bit weird?" She asked desperately trying to make him see reason.

"If they want to give me authority who am I to go against it?"

She shook her head. Something didn't sit right with her. "Whatever you say, Tommy."

"Will you come to me in the future with your concerns or questions?" He asked calmly, reaching forward and grabbing her hand.

She bobbed her head and sighed, "I suppose."

He smiled seeming satisfied and assured her, "I would never lie to you, Jenny. No matter what you ask, I'll be honest."

"Alright," she said, resolving to put her suspicions to rest.

Jenny excused herself shortly after their talk. Unable to shake the obvious betrayal of trust from her mind. She was on the hunt now for the traitor. He wasn't in the common room, but she would track him down. Fury built in her like a kiln the longer she searched. Then she spotted him, the fire in her stomach roared in victory.

"Avery!" She growled, vaguely reminding herself of Tom.

He jumped, nearly dropping the textbook that was slung under his arm, "Merlin, Endall. Where's the fire?"

"You're such a git!" She smacked his arm and he laughed.

"What did I do, huh?" He asked, humor apparent on his face.

Her face turned red with rage, "This isn't a joke!"

The seriousness in her expression sobered Avery up. "What did I do?" He asked, this time sounding concerned.

"Come here," she tugged his arm roughly, pulling him into an empty classroom and slamming the door shut behind them. "I just had an interesting conversation with Tom."

"Did you?" Avery said, suddenly interested in the hem of his robe.

"Yes, he seemed to have knowledge about a conversation I had with you. One that I specifically asked to remain private," she sneered giving him a sharp look.

"Endall, I'm not going to keep a secret from Riddle," he tried to explain desperately.

"I guess that's why Tom always has you hanging around me. Little Avery, doing Tom's wishes like a loyal servant," she hissed, purposefully trying to degrade him.

"He knows you trust me," he attempted to explain again.

She gasped and nearly shouted, "So you're only talking to me to get on Tom's good side?"

"Endall, please you're putting words in my mouth," Avery said, trying to calm her down.

"No, I think I'm just beginning to understand," she snipped. "I bet you also immediately went calling for Tom when you saw that I was near the Forbidden Forest too."

"You really shouldn't be going in there," he said, not denying it.

She scoffed and drew her wand, pressing the tip to his nose, "Some friend you are. You're more like a babysitter. Stay away from me." She fled the classroom as he called for her to stop and hear him out. She wondered if he was just concerned about what Tom would think.

She stormed into the common room opting to take refuge in her own room, but quickly changed her mind upon seeing her roommates look up from their homework. She walked to her desk snatching up a quill as an excuse for coming into the room in the first place. Pocketing the quill she hurriedly exited and found her way to Tom's room.

Lestrange and Mulciber were talking with Tom when she threw open the door. The conversation came to an abrupt halt as they looked towards the intruder. Tom was the first to react. "I thought I was rid of you for the evening," he joked with a teasing smile.

When Jenny looked back at him with a miserable face, he frowned. She answered vaguely, "The business I needed to take care of was handled."

"I see," Tom mumbled thoughtfully. He turned to Lestrange and Mulciber and said, "Leave. We'll pick this up later tonight."

The pair looked expectantly at Jenny waiting for her to protest Tom making demands, but she just stared blankly back at them. They fled the room without another word, leaving Tom and Jenny alone.

Tom rounded on her but she spoke before he could start questioning her, "Avery is a git. A bloody git!"

"What did he do?" He asked dryly.

"He's manipulative!" She answered crossing her arms bitterly.

Tom blinked, "How?"

"He was just being my friend to get on your good side," she explained, Tom's calmness through her hysteria was slowly leveling out her nerves.

Tom scoffed and asked, "Is that so?"

Her eyes narrowed, he didn't appear surprised, "You didn't have something to do with that, did you? You did always have him keeping me company." Leaving her last thought 'This was too convenient for you,' to die on her tongue, unspoken.

Tom sputtered in disbelief, "You think that I would arrange this? I have to say I'm offended. Why would I ever have someone keep tabs on you?"

She watched him for a moment, her vision blurred as tears pricked her eyes, a small sob escape her lips, "Here I thought I had another friend. I guess I'm really just a fool."

Tom crossed the room and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, partly embracing her, "No, Avery's just a git. Besides, there's always Rosier."

"No." Jenny muttered while sniffling, "He was just hanging around because of Avery, they do everything together."

"I suppose you're right." He trailed off thinking for a moment, then he suggested, "I know! How about Lestrange?"

She was so shocked by the suggestion she giggled through the tears, "I think we'd drive each other mad." Then she decided, "No, I'm not going to hang around your friends anymore."

"Really?" He sounded almost disappointed or maybe annoyed. She looked up to try to decipher his expression, but by the time her eyes were on his face, he was only wearing a mask of concern.

"Yes, it only leads to trouble. I don't need another person like Avery around me," she explained, her tears drying as she spoke.

"If you think that's for the best," he conceded, slowly removing his arm from around her and pacing lazily in front of her.

"I do," she said, yawning as she watched him walk back and forth.

"It's been a long day for you," he noted. "Why don't you go to bed, it's getting late and we have exams tomorrow."

"Alright. Goodnight, Tommy," she hummed strolling sleepily from the room.

"Goodnight," he echoed as she left.

* * *

Jenny pushed away from the desk and huffed trying to relieve the stress that had built up over the hour. Placing the parchment on Professor Binn's desk she turned and left the classroom, leaving behind several other students who were still scribbling away at their desks attempting to complete the quiz. Tom looked up from his seated position in the windowsill, slipped his wand into his pocket and tucked a book beneath this arm, then stood.

"I do not have a career in history," Jenny declared to Tom as they strolled down the hall.

"You really think the class ended on that bad of a note?" He asked.

With a nod, she mentioned slightly disheartened, "I'll never get an invitation to the Slugclub."

"Nonsense," Tom scoffed, "you just have to capture Slughorn's attention."

"How would I do that?"

He shrugged then said, "You are getting good marks in potions, aren't you?"

"I am," she agreed shyly.

"Maybe that will be enough."

"I really don't think it will. I'm not doing any better than last year," she sighed.

"I'll think of something," he decided. "Maybe I'll put in a good word for you."

She blushed and looked down at the floor watching each step they made, "I don't need you to talk him into it. I want to do it myself."

"Best of luck then," he quipped dryly.

"Why must you do that?" She prodded with irritation.

"Do what?" He asked impatiently with a tut.

"Act like you always know what's best and—" Jenny's rant caught in her throat when she overheard a Ravenclaw girl mention the word 'London' in a conversation she was having with a Hufflepuff. She froze and grabbed Tom's arm pulling him to a stop next to her, several paces away from the pair.

"— just that my father and mother sound so worried," the Ravenclaw girl insisted earnestly.

"What's your problem?" Tom hissed in annoyance. Jenny hushed him and patted his arm, motioning towards the two.

The girl's voice carried on, "They've been writing me, keeping me updated on the war. Lots of muggles have been dying."

"Blimey, Warrens. Aren't you worried?" The Hufflepuff asked.

She considered this for a moment then said, "Britain declared war, but I'm not sure if we're winning."

"I'm glad my parents are wizards. No muggle could stand a chance against them."

The Ravenclaw nodded and said, "My parents are both Muggles, but I think we'll be okay."

The conversation was halted as a group of Slytherin girls approached the two, one girl, Jenny believed she was named Hornby, sneered a comment about Mudbloods, causing the Ravenclaw girl to protest in a whiny voice. Jenny sighed and tugged Tom's sleeve moving him from his leaning position on the wall and continuing down the hall.

"Well that was interesting," she noted to Tom.

"How?" he asked bitterly.

"Don't be like that," she sighed. "That Ravenclaw knows more about what's going on in the muggle world than either of us do."

"Why should we care about what the muggles are doing?" He asked with a snobbish air.

"We're about to go back into the muggle world. As in no magic. We'll be just as safe as any muggle on the street," she explained sarcastically to him.

Tom shot a glare her direction but made no comment. They walked in silence for a bit. The sound from a group of first years giggling and playing echoed down the hallway. Jenny and Tom strolled by a painting of a lion tamer who was muttering nervously and pacing in front of an empty cage. Nearly Headless Nick bobbed through them causing a shiver to crawl down Jenny's spine. The ghost paid no mind though, he was busy looking distractedly at the floor, seemingly trying to locate something he had misplaced.

Jenny was about to comment on the rudeness of his behavior but, Tom finally spoke, "I'll be really annoyed if I die from a silly muggle war."

"What? Oh yes, I suppose," She agreed halfheartedly. "I'm surprised you're still thinking about it. After all, I thought what the muggles did wasn't your problem."

He nodded thoughtfully and said, "It appears they're trying to make it my problem."

She rolled her eyes, "I don't think they went to war to make you notice them."

"That's not the point," he answered back.

"Then what is?" Jenny asked with an exasperated sigh.

"It's nothing," Tom said after a moment. "I'm just not going to let myself die on their behalf."

"I don't plan on it either," she said.

He announced abruptly, "I had a Defense question that I need to ask before the school year completely ends. Talk to you later tonight?"

"Alright," she agreed as he briskly walked away from her.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

* * *

 _It is not power that corrupts but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it._

 _\- Aung San Suu Kyi, Freedom from Fear -_

* * *

The sultry summer air wrapped around Jenny as she walked through the London streets. She turned to make her way back home when the sun began to sink behind the buildings, streaking the sky with orange and pink clouds. She paused at the corner of the street eyes gravitating towards a graying wooden bench, and she spotted a newspaper resting on it. Glancing around, she decided it had been abandoned. Unfolding the paper she skimmed the headlines; the major one was in a bolded, angry, font declaring, 'BATTLE OF BRITAIN RAGES ACROSS SOUTHERN SKIES'. Out of impulse she looked up, only spotting a lone airplane purring overhead peacefully. A short hearty laugh came from behind her. She whipped around clenching the newspaper in her hands to her chest.

"Woah there, lass," a portly police officer said, raising his hands as though attempting to calm a spooked horse. "No need to be so on edge."

She smiled stiffly at the officer and explained, "Sorry, I hadn't realized many people were still out."

His gaze softened as he asked, "Would you like an escort home? It's nearly time for the blackout."

"No, sir, I live nearby. I'll be able to find my way," she said hurriedly. Folding the newspaper carefully up, she placed it back on the bench and trotted away from the street corner, leaving the officer behind without another glance.

She raced past several storefronts; the owners were pacing the front of their businesses, trying to spot any escaping light. When she approached the orphanage, the first thing she noticed was the front door, which was ajar. She approached the front gate, and her eyes shot up to Tom's bedroom window out of habit, but upon seeing the faded black, nearly gray, chipped paint covering the glass she sighed dropping her gaze again. They had painted all of the upstairs windows to remain compliant with the blackout. The only windows spared from this treatment were on the first floor, which Mrs. Cole was currently shoving cardboard into the frames of, hiding the glass from light. After fiddling with the latch, the gate swung open with an unpleasant creak, and she entered the front garden to find Mrs. Cole had abandoned her task, leaving several pieces of cardboard propped up against the building and was now anxiously eyeing Jenny.

"Heaven only knows what's gotten into your head!" Her caretaker scolded, grabbing the back of Jenny's shirt and tugging her impatiently into the orphanage. "Arrive this close to dark again, and you'll not be going out alone anymore."

"Yes, ma'am," Jenny agreed submissively.

The corners of the sitting room were already enveloped in darkness, the same way it always was during sunset. The glow of the sun was hidden away from the windows, no longer illuminating the center of the room. The wick of a candle near the front door was smoldering and emitted a thin wispy string of smoke. Absentmindedly, Jenny licked her forefinger and thumb, then pinched the wick between them, smiling in satisfaction as it sizzled.

Mrs. Cole, who had been busying herself with drawing the thin curtains over the windows, glanced towards the child and with a tut, said, "It isn't very ladylike to lick your hands."

With a cross huff, she said, "I'm not a lady."

"You're a young lady, and it'll do you good to remember it. I thought that private school would teach you etiquette. I mean truly, I ought to have a talk with that professor of yours," Mrs. Cole chastised.

Jenny remained silent and fled the room before the caretaker could nag her more. She hurriedly climbed the stairs initially taking them two at a time but, the darkened stairwell made her stumble for footing, causing her to slow her pace and carefully place her feet on each step. Her fingertip immediately found the wall and carefully traced her path as she walked to Tom's room, the hallway between the rooms was always unmanageably dark after the blackout started, the moonlight from the windows no longer able to illuminate the pathway. She counted the bumps and scratches in the walls to tell her where she was; at the third divot in the wall, she reached out and felt the cool brass knob for Tom's door.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Why are you whispering," Tom asked from across the room. She treaded gingerly into the room, carefully minding her step in the low lighting.

She grunted in pain as she stubbed her toe on a chair, after recovering, she answered, "I don't know," this time in a normal volume. "It feels like we're hiding."

His hand reached out and caught her wrist, guiding her towards his bed, the squeak of the bed spring filled the silence as they sat. "We are, in a way," Tom muttered.

She nodded then mentioned, "It's getting worse. The war, I mean."

"Well, I didn't think we were sitting in the dark for fun," he quipped.

"What if they do bomb London?" She asked, voice shaking slightly.

"They aren't going to."

"You can't know that."

"And you can't know they will," he shot back stubbornly. "Besides, one of the reasons for the blackout is to make it hard for them to target buildings if they do decide to."

She whispered back, "I miss Hogwarts."

He didn't reply immediately, and when he did, he simply asked, "How was your walk?"

"I found a newspaper. The headlines are getting scary."

"Enough about the silly muggle war," he snapped.

"It's alright to be scared," she said softly, glancing in Tom's direction.

"I'm not scared," he all but snarled back.

She watched his face crumple into a scowl, the low light cast shadows across his face and exaggerated his features. "You also don't have to be so defensive," she dryly replied.

He fell silent then, the only noise between them was the sound of their breathing. Jenny spoke again, "You and have been so uptight lately."

"One of the many undesirable side effects of war," Tom answered sarcastically.

With a smirk that was evident in her voice, she said, "What the muggles do matters to you now? Merlin, I thought I'd never see the day."

"Ha ha," he said humorlessly. "I'm mostly irritated that I can't read very well during the blackout, candlelight isn't very bright."

She shrugged and said, "I just wish we could do magic. We could cast a Confundus Charm on the room and get away with lighting more than just one candle." The one candle rule had been a creation of Mrs. Cole's. Wool's couldn't afford blackout curtains for every window, so they had been forced to hang thin cloths up, in an attempt to hide the light, which hadn't been very effective, especially in the bedrooms where the only coverage was a single layer of paint on the outside of the window and a cloth. After getting reprimanded by the patrol for the second time, she decided that each bedroom was just to have one candle lit and only when absolutely necessary.

"I looked into it on our last day of classes. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find a way to break the Trace," Tom admitted bitterly.

"You shouldn't be purposefully trying to break the rules," she reprimanded him halfheartedly, secretly disappointed he did it find a way to break the charm.

"Is it truly breaking the rules if we don't get caught?"

"It is," she laughed.

In reply, he arrogantly said, "I think if we're smart enough not to get caught, then we don't deserve a punishment."

"If you say so," she resigned.

"Let's just go to sleep," he said, sounding somewhat defeated.

"Easy for you to say, you don't have to navigate to your room," she sniffed in annoyance.

Tom stood from his bed and crossed the room. He dug through his trunk in search of something, then finally produced a candle from its depths. Thrusting it towards her, he said, "Here, light this. Remember to bring it back in the morning. You'll only have yourself to blame if you have to walk in the dark."

"Thanks," she chirped, flicking a match across a matchbox several times before it caught.

She carefully touched the tip of the match to the wick, for a moment she stood in silence watching the flame grow and dance on its new perch. Then it passed, she shook the match out, and left Tom's room after a hushed, "Goodnight," passed between them.

* * *

"The Nazi's bombed London last night!" A mudblood Gryffindor shouted across the Great Hall.

It had not even been a week since Jenny and Tom's first classes of third year began. The silence that immediately flooded the room made Jenny's ears ring. Several things followed the announcement almost simultaneously. The bite of toast that had been in Jenny's mouth felt as though it absorbed every drop of moisture. She swallowed her breakfast thickly and felt it scratch its way slowly down the back of her throat. The tables erupted in chaos. Some first years began crying, scared for their families that they had left behind to attend Hogwarts. Several professors stood from their dinner table, attempting to bark orders over the panic, but for the most part, were ignored. Jenny's eyes locked with Tom's from across the table, he stood from his plate, placing the napkin that had been resting on his lap on top of his remaining breakfast, and briskly walked out of the Great Hall. She quickly sipped her tea, trying to defeat the dryness in her mouth. The boiling liquid landing on her tongue didn't perturb her, if anything, it had been an odd comfort. Hastily Jenny set the teacup back on the table, the contents sloshed over the edge carelessly, then she followed Tom, fleeing from breakfast.

He was waiting for her just outside the doors, a satisfied smile graced his face when he saw she had followed. "It was getting hectic in there," he explained.

She bobbed her head in agreement. Finding her voice, she formed her thoughts, "If they had done it a few days earlier, we could have been there."

"We weren't though," Tom shrugged, allowing the words to roll off him unaffected.

Then her heart clenched as she realized something, "What if Wool's is gone?" She asked. "Mrs. Cole could be—" she stopped unable to voice her fear.

"Only if we're lucky," he chuckled darkly.

"This isn't a joke! Where will we go?"

In annoyance, he said, "If I wanted to hang around fools going into hysterics over a bunch of muggles, I would have finished my breakfast."

Her eyes narrowed at him, "I'm sorry I care about our childhood home."

"What I don't understand is why you care? As far as I'm aware, we were never fond of it."

"It was where we met Raden—"

"Also where he was fatally wounded by a muggle." Tom interrupted.

She continued, "It's where we met each other—"

"We would have met at Hogwarts," he dismissed her with a shrug.

"Well I don't want to sleep on the streets next summer, and I think you wouldn't want to either, so I hope for both of our sakes it's still standing," she gritted out in frustration.

"We're going to be late for Transfiguration," Tom muttered turning to walk down the hallway, causing Jenny to trot after him.

"I wasn't done talking," she sniffed.

"I was done listening," he sighed while rolling his eyes.

"Real nice," she said under her breath, letting her feet land a little harder than normal on the staircase to passively convey her anger.

"Are you done stomping about like a child?" He quipped.

In the most snarky tone she could muster, she asked back, "Are you done being a git?"

"You first," he answered with a smirk as he pulled the classroom door open and motioned for her to enter. Jenny elbowed him as she walked by, then sat at their usual spot, second row, closest table to the door. It was almost as far from Dumbledore's as they could get, while still looking studious.

Tom rubbed his arm where she had jabbed him and shot her a sour look. He took a seat next to her making quick work of gathering a piece of paper and his quill, scratching the date along the top. A few late arrivals filtered into the room and soon nearly everyone was present, except for Dumbledore. A quiet hum of voices filled the room as the students began talking amongst themselves, mostly gossip about the bombing in London.

"Bloody rich ain't it?" Rosier said, leaning forward on his table behind Jenny and Tom.

"What?" Jenny asked, turning to look at him.

"All these mudbloods wanting to leave Hogwarts to check on mummy and daddy," he explained.

"I say let 'em," Avery added. "Just don't let them come back once they've gone."

Tom turned to join the conversation, "That would never happen, certain professors," he spat the words pointedly, "sympathize with them too much."

Jenny shrugged and simply said, "I don't see what the big deal is."

Tom took control of the conversation now, arrogantly chastising her, "You're not thinking about it critically then. The mudblood's parents and siblings know about wizards, then the parents and siblings tell their extended family. Soon every muggle will know all about us."

She furrowed her brow, contemplating this. Rosier said, "Yeah, then they'll start wanting to come to Hogwarts."

"And they'll start making demands for muggle rights," Avery added with a snort.

Tom cut in, watching Jenny carefully, he said, "You know what's happening right now? With the Jews? If they find out about us, soon they'll start coming for wizards too and anyone they see fit."

Her eyes widened, and she agreed reluctantly, "I guess that is a good reason."

Tom face cracked into a satisfied smile as he patted her arm, reassuringly, "It is for the best."

The door opened and a hush fell over the room. Jenny and Tom turned to face the front of the room as Dumbledore swept in, cloak billowing behind him as he walked to his desk.

Professor Dumbledore's eyes knowingly scanned over the heads of his students. With a solemn expression he said, "As you all know, or have been made aware of by your classmates, London was bombed by Germany last night. We've been reaching out to families that could have been impacted. If you have a person you would like to check on, please see your Head of House."

There was a pause as his words weighed on the students. Jenny glanced once at Tom, but his eyes were fixed on Dumbledore. Her eyes lazily slid back to the professor as he began the lecture. She tuned him out, scribbling idly on a corner of her paper pretending to take notes. The explanation of the lesson ended with parchments being passed around the room. Tom explained to Jenny in a slightly irritated tone that they were to transfigure a piece of parchment into a blanket. By the time class was dismissed, Tom had a thick wool blanket, Jenny had a silk sheet, Avery had a parchment-sized scrap of cloth, and Rosier had a bitter scowl and a crumpled ball of parchment.

"It probably would have worked better if you hadn't been jabbing your wand ape-ishly," Tom critiqued Rosier blandly as the four walked towards the door.

"Sod off, Riddle," Rosier grumbled.

"Mr. Riddle, Ms. Endall, if I could have a word with you," Professor Dumbledore requested from his desk.

The four froze, Rosier and Avery eyed both Tom and Jenny wearily. "We'll wait up," Avery said, although uncertainly.

Tom nodded once to them, and they hurriedly fled the classroom. The pair crossed the room, approaching Dumbledore.

Jenny was the first to break the silence, "Is it Wool's?" Her tone came off more urgent than she had wished.

Dumbledore's mustache twitched as a sympathetic smile danced on his lips, "That was precisely what I wished to speak to you two about."

Jenny's heart sank and she impulsively gripped Tom's hand, "How bad is it?"

Tom added a calculated follow-up question, "Will we be going back?"

"There's no need for concern," Dumbledore assured them, "Wool's is perfectly fine. I was able to speak with Mrs. Cole this morning and besides being a little shaken everyone is alright." His piercing gaze was fixed on Tom now.

With a forced smile and a silky tone, Tom said, "Thank you for letting us know, sir. Was there anything else you'd like to tell us?"

There was a silence that echoed through the room only for a moment before Dumbledore's soft baritone voice said, "That was all. Professor Slughorn is also aware of the situation, we'll let you know if anything does happen to Wool's."

Jenny nodded happily, her nerves washing away so fast she could barely remember her previous panic. Tom's head bobbed once in understanding as he said, "Thank you, sir."

"Oh, and congratulations on getting invited to the Slugclub, Ms. Endall. Professor Slughorn's been boasting all about your studies with Herbology. If I'm not mistaken, I believe that was an interest you've inherited from your father," Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with warmth as he smiled proudly to her.

"Thank you!" Jenny gushed with bashful pride.

"Have a good afternoon, sir," Tom said, passively signaling to Jenny it was time for them to take their leave.

"Bye, Professor," Jenny called with a wave as they walked out the door.

Avery and Rosier snapped to their side like magnets, faithfully trailing Tom down the hall. Jenny was practically skipping beside them, but her cheery mood was dampened as Tom huffed, "What a detestable old fool."

Drawing her brows together, Jenny wondered, "Dumbledore?"

"Yes. He was purposefully trying to undermine me," Tom stormed down the hall twirling his wand.

"What do you mean?" Rosier asked.

Tom shook his head at Rosier, then paused in the doorway, "Bloody brilliant," he sneered, eyeing the wardrobe placed in the center of the Defense classroom with annoyance. "This day can't get anymore irksome."

"What do you mean?" Jenny asked.

"Today's our lesson on Bogarts," he simply answered, then stalked into the classroom and plopped down heatedly into his chair.

Jenny walked slowly into the room, pausing in front of the wardrobe and studying its chipped paint and dull, silver knobs. "What did Dumbledore say?" Avery asked her, causing her to jump slightly.

"What?" She asked, turning to look at him.

Avery's lips twitched with a hint of a smile as he asked, "Well, whatever he said put Riddle into a nasty mood. So, are you gonna enlighten us? Because I don't think the ball of sunshine over there," he tilted his head Tom's direction, "is in a sharing mood."

She opened her mouth, about to answer, then she stopped, her eyes narrowed as she jabbed his chest with her finger, "Why would I tell you anything? Just because I talk to you around Tom doesn't mean I've forgiven you. I've only accepted your presence is unfortunately unavoidable."

"Dumbledore must have put you in a mood too," he shrugged, walking over to take his seat next to Rosier.

She grumbled and sat next to Tom muttering to him quietly, "I don't think Dumbledore was undermining you. He was entirely pleasant."

"He deliberately praised you for getting into the Slugclub! He never mentioned when I got invited last year," he said back in a hushed tone so Avery and Rosier wouldn't hear. Aggressively, he flipped open his Defense Against the Dark Arts book and began thumbing through the pages.

"That is a little rude, but I don't think he meant for it to come off that way," Jenny insisted.

"That's not all." Tom whispered, nearly in a hiss, "He brought up your parents, your bloodline, knowing full well I don't know anything about mine."

"Alright, I guess that's insensitive," Jenny said back softly. "But, I don't think he knew it was a sensitive topic." Tom scoffed, pointedly reading the text in his book. She tried to distract him, "So, what's a Bogart?"

"Did you not do your reading?" He bit back.

She scowled at him, "Get over yourself." Glaring darkly down at the cover of her own textbook she flipped it open, then stole a glance at Tom's book to find the page number she needed to read.

"Hey, Riddle! Rosier, Avery," a Ravenclaw girl trilled in greeting as she walked in the room.

Jenny had never met this girl before, but it quickly became apparent that she was the only outlier as the guys all greeted her back with equal enthusiasm.

The girl approached Jenny and Tom's desk and sat on the edge, eyes only for Tom. She smiled towards him and asked, "You've already had Transfiguration, right?" She didn't wait for a reply as she continued with, "I was looking over the reading from last class, and I'm just not understanding it. I'm certain I'm going to struggle with today's lesson. Would you be able to tutor me?"

Rosier's laughter immediately interrupted anything Tom was going to say. Rosier jeered teasingly, "A Ravenclaw needing help in a class, I never thought I'd see the day!"

The girls face tinted a bright red and she growled, "Oh, bugger off, Rosier!"

Tom finally spoke, silencing the two's bickering, "Unfortunately, Ms. Crouch, I've been quite busy myself with tutoring Slytherins, Rosier being one of them," Tom mentioned, pointedly glancing at Rosier with a scolding glare. He looked back towards the girl and with a passive smile suggested, "I believe Ms. Endall is available. Her skills are nearly equal to my own."

"Nearly equal?" Jenny scoffed, "How flattering."

Crouch deflated slightly with disappointment, "Uh, that's alright. I'll ask someone from Ravenclaw." She hopped down from the table, brushed away a non-existing wrinkle from her skirt, and walked to her desk.

"I'll try not to take that as an insult," Jenny huffed, staring down at her textbook in annoyance.

"I think someone's got a crush on you, Riddle," Avery said in a sing songy tone.

"I hadn't noticed," Riddle said in a bored voice, flipping to the next page in his book.

"You're not that thick, are you?" Jenny asked in disbelief.

"It would be rude to make those sort of assumptions. She's a lady," Tom reminded Avery, ignoring Jenny's comment.

"You're not becoming obsessed with having girls 'act like ladies' are you? Between you and Mrs. Cole it may just be my end," Jenny pouted dramatically.

"Who's Mrs. Cole?"

From the corner of her eye, Jenny could see Tom stiffen. She turned to glare towards Avery and hissed, "You keep your nose in your own business."

"Bloody hell," Avery sighed, "relax, Endall. It was just a question."

"And you got the only answer I'll provide. So leave me alone you daft twat," she gritted out.

Silence came flooding into the space between them as they waited for the lesson to start. They were rewarded shortly after when the Defense professor came into the room.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

* * *

 _You did not so much mind being -conventionally- betrayed, if you were not kept in the dark, which was humiliating, or defined only as a wife and dependent person, which was annihilating._

 _\- A.S. Byatt, The Children's Book -_

* * *

Professor Merrythought glided gracefully into the classroom with the sort of composure one could only hope to develop with old age. Her worn face was drawn tight with worry as she stood in front, patiently waiting for the class to pay attention, the results were almost instantaneous as the Ravenclaws grew silent out of respect for the wise witch and the Slytherins quieted quickly after, not wanting to be outdone.

"Thank you for your attention," she spoke with an airy softness that was tinged with the sort of harsh tone a grandmother would use if her tea wasn't seeped well enough and someone had already disposed of the bag. "Today was supposed to be about defending oneself against Bogarts, but in light of recent news, I think it would be best if we strayed from that lesson plan." She twitched her wand so quickly that it had almost appeared involuntary, with a creak the wardrobe lifted from the floor and sailed elegantly through the air, only to finally settle in the corner of the room with a muted thud.

"Professor," a boy from the front of the room began. Jenny couldn't see him from where she was seated, but from his artificially posh tone, she could make a guess he was a Ravenclaw. "When will we be going over Bogarts?"

Professor Merrythought looked towards him, and a gray, loose strand of hair slipped from the twisted bun perched on her head as she did. She shook her head and advised him, "It will come. I want to put some time between today and then. A Bogart takes the form of an individual's worst fear, and with all that's happened today, I worry the forms may be a bit disturbing for some people."

The boy hummed in agreement. He must have felt in some way obligated to respond as though they were having a conversation when it had been obvious, at least Jenny had thought, that the professor was addressing the entire class. There was the sound of fluttering as some students shuffled papers around, either pulling out a parchment for taking notes on the new lecture or hiding away notes on Bogarts.

The hem of Professor Merrythought's dress skimmed the floor as she approached a dusty, oak bookshelf. In a fluid motion, she plucked a small box from the shelf and swung open the fragile latch holding it shut. From within the depths of the box, she pulled out a single tooth about the length of a finger. The yellowed tooth jutted from a thick base and came to a sharp tip. She held the base between her pointer finger and thumb as she paraded it between the desks. The students' curious eyes followed her as she did a lap until she came to a stop at the front of the room again.

"This is a tooth I collected in my travels."

On occasion, she spoke vaguely of her 'travels' to the class. The first time this happened, Jenny assumed it was a roundabout way of gloating about her worldliness, but the stories Professor Merrythought told were often cut too short to be anything but humble, usually only speaking of needed details and nothing more. It reminded Jenny of the professor's writing style, having authored several Defense Against the Dark Arts books, a few had slipped into the assigned reading over the past years. The books tended to abruptly stop stories once the details needed were conveyed.

"Can anyone tell me," the professor continued in a sluggish tone, "what creature this tooth had belonged to?" There was a moment of hesitation as students squinted to get a better look at the object in question. Tom's hand reached into the air and Jenny eyed him. He had a cool look on his face, and his lips tugged lightly into a confident smirk as the professor said, "Mr. Riddle?"

The sticky, honey-sweet answer dripped off his tongue, "A werewolf, ma'am."

"15 points to Slytherin," Professor Merrythought murmured in reply, giving Tom a small nod of appreciation. "I was studying a woman that had become afflicted with the condition a year prior. She's a scholar and had been doing a study herself when the bite happened. We had both been curious about the body's physical and psychological conditions moments before and after transformation." There was a pause has the aged professor gathered her thoughts, "Although the study yielded little results, she did lose a tooth while in werewolf form that night. Curiously enough, it did not transform back with the rest of her at daybreak." The tooth was placed neatly back into the box, and the lid snapped over it again, securely locking away the contents. The professor explained more on werewolves, and finally, the lesson came to a close with an essay assignment on the characteristics of a werewolf.

Their free period was punctuated by the absence of Avery and Rosier. This absence could be easily explained by Tom's residual bitter mood and the pointed glare Jenny had given Avery the moment the professor dismissed them. As a result, it had been just the two of them, which was a situation that was familiar in a most nostalgic way for them both.

"Come on, Tom! Please?!" The sound of their shoes echoed through the hallway as they walked away from classroom 3C.

"I already told you no," Tom responded flatly.

"But you never want to do anything fun," Jenny whined. "We barely go outside together anymore."

"We're not children," he quipped in annoyance.

"Besides going to the library, what else would we be doing?" she crossed her arms in defiance.

He rolled his eyes, "I'm in no mood—"

Speaking over him, she snapped, "You're never in the mood to do anything fun."

A deep sigh huffed from his mouth as his shoulders slumped. He dropped his head forwards in defeat, causing a tuft of his hair to slip out of line and hang freely on his forehead. "Fine. You'll get your way." Jenny smiled, and Tom shook his head, saying, "Just this one time, okay? I'm busy, I need all the free time I have to go to my projects."

"Deal," Jenny agreed, not caring for the terms, but also not wanting to push her luck either.

* * *

After a careful glance around the area to check for professors, Jenny hooked her arm with Tom's and briskly dragged him towards the Forbidden Forest. Upon realizing her intentions, he pulled her to a stop. She tugged against his resolve, but his stubbornness combined with his heels digging firmly into the soil, she was unable to bring him closer to the tree line.

"Don't be a scaredy-cat," she teased in an attempt to urge him forward.

"I don't want to get detention because of your childish whims," he sniffed, appearing to regret his agreement to go outside more and more.

"What was it you said this summer? 'If we don't get caught, then we don't deserve a punishment.'" She smiled slyly at him.

"Something like that," he agreed dryly. "But if I remember correctly, you immediately shut me down, citing that rules should be followed," he looked down at Jenny with smug disapproval.

"Aren't you at all curious why it's the _Forbidden_ Forest?" She asked while dropping Tom arm, taking a big step towards the forest, and spinning to look at him.

"If I were, I'd go to the library and find more on its history, but I'm not. I suggest if you are curious that you should do the same."

She took another step, this time backward, inching closer towards the forest. "I like to learn through experience."

"Jenny," he said in a low warning, suddenly realizing her intentions.

His voice jolted her legs into action. She spun to face the forest and took off into the trees.

"Come back here!" He called after her.

She heard twigs snapping and leaves rustling behind her, she knew he mustn't be far behind. After a few seconds, she stopped, satisfied by how far they had traveled in. "There," she leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

Tom gasped for air and asked in exasperation, "Why must you behave like this?"

She shrugged, "You wouldn't have let me go in any other way."

"Because it's dangerous," he hissed in irritation as his hands absentmindedly straightened his tie.

"Yeah but you're a good wizard, and I'm—" she paused, pretending to think for a moment, "what was it again? 'Nearly as skilled' as you?"

He shot her a weary smile, "You're still on that?"

"Barely," she deadpanned. "Either way, we can take any creature that lurks in here." She dug her foot into the nook of a pine tree and began to climb. After a few moments of silence, she paused in her climbing to check if Tom was still there. She smiled to herself when she spotted him with wand out and at the ready.

"You really shouldn't be climbing trees like that anymore. No man will have you as a wife if you don't behave like a respectable lady," Tom called from the base of the tree.

Jenny stared down at him from a thick branch, picking idly at the bark as she said, "I thought we were beyond the whole 'act like ladies' time. Aren't women supposed to be doing their part to help the war effort, you know, not caring for the house?" Although this wasn't something she understood fully, she enjoyed the sentiment. Over the summer, Jenny had asked the ice cream parlor cashier why her husband wasn't tending to the shop anymore, the wife had answered that she was merely doing her part to aid the war. Jenny hadn't bothered to push the woman for more information, the ice cream had started to drip down the cone, and she was too eager to lick the sticky, mint flavor before it slipped to the floor.

"The war will be over by the time you're at marrying age," he scoffed. "Besides wizards aren't joining the army," he gave a short laugh at the thought. "You are still expected to behave like a dignified pureblood, not some working dog."

It had been increasingly apparent, Jenny realized, that Tom was no longer seeing her as an equal; she had become a responsibility, a burdensome task, a frail _lady_. Producing her wand, she decided at once to rectify this situation. "I don't like what you're insinuating, Tom."

He crossed his arms, not one to allow a silly intimidation tactic to phase him. "So defensive," he tsked. "I was merely advising you."

She began lowering herself until she was about three branches high, with a push she propelled herself off the tree. Sailing through the air in a spectacular arch, she landed on her feet a few paces from Tom, only to lose her balance and dropped to her knees. Hopping up and dusting the pine needles from her palms, she chided, "I don't need your advice."

"Yes, you're doing magnificent without it," he muttered sarcastically.

"Thanks," she sneered, giving him a light shove. "Regardless, we can go back to the castle. I don't want to be late for potions."

"Splendid. Was your trip to the Forbidden Forest worth it?" He asked bitterly, beginning to walk in the direction they had come from.

"Why must you always—" her voice died in her throat.

Tom, who had his back to her, snarled angrily, "Oh, please continue. I'm rather interested as to what I _always do_."

She opened her mouth, but her tongue felt numb and stupid. She sucked in a shallow breath through the thin straw that had become her throat and whispered the only thing that came to mind, "Tommy."

A massive creature was standing about ten feet away from Jenny. It had a large, black beak for a mouth that ended in a curved, razor-sharp point. Its body was similar to a horse, save for the long wings positioned on either shoulder blade and large talons on its two front legs. Tom, realizing something was amiss, turned to find Jenny standing frozen, staring wide-eyed at the animal.

"Merlin. Don't move," Tom breathed. "Don't even blink." The creatures narrowed eyes stared blankly at Jenny, daring her to react. "That's a Hippogriff," he explained, trying to keep his voice as level and calm as possible, for both the Hippogriff and Jenny's sake.

"What do I do?" She asked in a hushed, shaking voice.

Tom racked his brain, he knew this, he had read on them recently, but his mind was blanking. Her panicked whispers were all his thoughts could fixate on. Then by some miracle, he remembered, "Bow!"

"What?" She said, nearly in tears.

"Look it in the eyes and bow," he answered confidently this time.

And she did just that. She imagined she must look rather silly, bowing to a bird-horse in the middle of a forest. She rose from her bow and began walking to Tom. "That was it?" She joked, feeling foolish the solution was so simple.

"No!" Tom yelled, but it was too late.

The Hippogriff shot towards her like a bullet, closing the gap between them. Tom raised his wand and bellowed the first spell that came to mind. The Hippogriff was flung back, shooting through the air and landing with a thud and plume of dust. With a quick lunge forward, he grabbed her hand and pulled her away, breaking out into a run to the castle, tugging her with him. Jenny was able to steal a final glance at the Hippogriff before the trees between them hid it from sight, it had been scrambling to its feet, watching them with hatred burning in its eyes.

The light was nearly blinding after being hidden under the shade of trees for so long. Tom's hand was still locked around Jenny's, and she was sure there was a bruise developing under his fingertips. He was tugging her towards the castle, no longer running, but maintaining a brisk pace. He finally came to a stop near one of the greenhouses for Herbology, apparently feeling they had put enough distance between the Hippogriff and themselves.

"Are you stupid?" Tom growled suddenly.

"Wha—"

"Did I say that you _only_ had to bow? You should have waited until I said it was safe." He ranted, face turning red.

"I didn't think—"

He scoffed, "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."

"You—"

" _You_ nearly got yourself _killed_!"

Raising her voice, she argued, "I can protect myself." Her sentence was punctuated by Tom's sarcastic, scornful laugh.

"Yes, you did have a handle on things, didn't you?" He mused bitterly. "If you so much as look in the direction of that bloody forest again, I'll kill you myself. At least your body won't be shipped back to Wool's in pieces if I do it."

"Always with the dramatics," she scoffed.

"Riddle! I've been looking everywhere for you," Nott said as he rounded the corner, pausing and raising a brow upon seeing Jenny nearly pinned to the greenhouse by Tom. "Am I interrupting something?"

Tom must have realized how it appeared because his eyes widen, and he took a giant step back. Coughing awkwardly to clear his throat, he muttered, "Don't be a moron, Nott." After collecting himself, Tom directed is anger from Jenny towards Nott, "What do you need?" The question came rolling off his tongue with an unfair amount of venom.

"Okay, no need to bite my head off," Nott shrugged unfazed. "I have some good news, I found a passageway."

Tom glanced at Jenny then back at Nott, "This isn't the time—"

"What does he mean?" Jenny asked, crossing her arms and looking from Nott to Tom.

"Oh brilliant, now you've done it," Tom groaned, placing a finger on his temple and closing his eyes for a moment. With a single drawn-out sigh, his eyes popped open again, and he said, "It means exactly what he said, Jenny. Hogwarts is full of them. Although, I can't for the life of me figure out why."

She perked up at this, "Awesome." Then looking at Nott with wide, eager eyes asked, "Are you gonna take us?"

Nott reluctantly looked to Tom in the hope of getting some guidance, but apparently, it was little help because he merely said, "I— uh— I don't know."

"Obviously not," Tom admonish in annoyance. "Potions is about to start, and we would risk someone seeing us during the day. We'll take you to one after Slugclub tonight. Okay?"

Jenny was nearly vibrating in excitement, "Really?! Why just one? I want to see them all."

"Don't push your luck. After that stunt you pulled today you're lucky I'm even allowing this much," Tom huffed bitterly.

* * *

Jenny was barely able to focus on the thick, pearly white combination of ingredients as it bubbled, much to Tom's horror. The caldron shuddered and jumped, pulling his attention away from the fairy wings he had been meticulously cutting into thin strips.

"Bloody hell," he breathed while lowering the heat on the potion. "Would you pay more attention?" He hissed to her quietly, not wanting to draw the professor's gaze to their nearly ruined project.

She blinked then looked from the cutting board to Tom's frown, "What?"

"Unbelievable," he sighed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Oh, the potions just about ready for the wings," she exclaimed, giving it a quick counterclockwise stir. "Could you hurry up and chop the rest?"

"How thoughtless of me," he sarcastically bit.

She sniffed in annoyance but didn't comment on his attitude, instead she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the different types of secret passages Tom would show her. She knew he'd claimed that they would only take her to just this one, but she would wear him down eventually. This was a new beginning, she thought, one where Tom wouldn't be so elusive. Maybe, with time, he would even take his Borgin and Burke's books out from hiding and let her read them. Ever since coming to Hogwarts there had been a disconnect between them, she hoped that by letting her in on one of his projects it would—

"Jenny!" Tom berated, making the girl in question jump.

"Yes?" She asked, then gasped at the sight of the pea green froth building on top of their potion.

"You didn't mix it enough" he waved his wand desperately trying to beat down the foam, but the damage was done. The potion returned to a thick liquid, but the pearl color was tinted green and had a pungent stench billowing up.

"Oh dear," Professor Slughorn murmured, as he approached them from across the room. He paused, leaning over the cauldron for a moment, then with a wink he said in a conspiring tone, "A splash of Bulbadox juice should set you straight."

Tom nodded and mumbled, "Thank you, professor." Wordlessly summoning a small glass bottle from across the room, then with a pop removed the stopper and allowed several drops of dark green liquid to plummet into the potion.

Almost immediately, the potion regained its proper color and Slughorn said with a smile, "Much better," he leaned back, causing his belly to pop forward. "Can't have you two stuck here remaking the potion during the Slugclub meeting tonight. Best be careful Ms. Endall, that trick only works once on this recipe," he teased.

"Yes, sir," Jenny acknowledged him, feeling her face heat with embarrassment.

There was a pop and sizzle as a Gryffindor's potion bubbled dangerously, spewing thick, black smoke. The majority of the class watched as the two students tried in a frenzy to salvage their destroyed potion. "No, no! Please, don't add anything more. I'll vanish it before it gets truly hazardous," Professor Slughorn called as he scurried across the room.

Jenny glanced to Tom and was startled to find his eyes were already on her. "What?" She asked.

"What has gotten you so distracted? Are you still shaken from the incident in the forest?" He was studying her carefully. His measured stare made her skull feel transparent, as though he could sort through her thoughts and pluck the ones that interested him for his keeping.

"What do you— I wasn't— I'm not—" she stuttered, floundering to collect herself. Then after a drawn-out pause, she finally spoke again, sounding indignant, "I never was _shaken_ from that. I had a handle on things."

"You sounded terrified," he said unimpressed, there was a moment of hush shared between them as they both revisited the memory. "It made it hard for even _me_ to focus," then he hastily amended, "only for a moment, of course."

"Well, I'm not shaken," she firmly declared, paying extra attention to the swirling liquid in the cauldron. After a beat, she demanded he, "Add the wings."

Unceremoniously, he slid the knife's flat side along the cutting board, sweeping the wings off, allowing them to flutter and twist in the air. They curled into tight balls as they touched the hot potion, and with a grimace, Jenny gave it two clockwise turns. "Now we wait until it turns light orange," Tom said quietly.

"I know," was all she said back, feeling suddenly tired. The day had been an emotional roller coaster, and they hadn't even had dinner yet, she wearily wondered if third year was going to be the hardest year for her. Although she considered darkly, with four more years left, she supposed she was getting ahead of herself.

"You're one to talk about _me_ being shaken," Jenny scolded suddenly.

"Huh," he hummed halfheartedly, his attention mainly on the potions books sprawled out in front of him.

"You're talking down to me about the whole incident in the forest, but you were the one who started running first," she smirked triumphantly at him.

"A good wizard— hell, a good strategist— knows when to pick fights. That was clearly not to our advantage," Tom explained simply, with a condescending tone. "I figured all your practice with Wizard Chess would have taught you a thing or to about knowing when you're beat."

Realizing she had clearly struck a chord, she considered dropping the topic entirely, but his Wizard Chess comment flared her anger, "Maybe, it's just that you aren't as skilled as you thought, some people are only talented in classes and aren't able to translate their lessons to the real world."

"Please," his voice was tight with repressed anger, "I could have killed the bloody creature if I wanted, but I knew that would be difficult while I was busy also trying to keep you alive."

"I can protect myself," she growled.

"I've yet to see any proof," he sneered back.

"Uh, guys?" Avery's voice broke their glaring contest.

"What!" Jenny snapped, nearly ready to hex Avery.

"Your potion is done," he nearly squeaked.

"Thank you, Avery," Tom said, sounding surprisingly calm. He made quick work of ladling out two vials of the light orange liquid and corking them, handing one to Jenny and keeping the other for himself. With a wordless wave of his wand, the remaining potion vanished.

"Show off," Jenny breathed, rolling her eyes. Tom paid no mind to her as he walked briskly to the front of the room, placing the vile on Professor Slughorn's desk and went promptly out the door. She quickly followed suit chasing after him down the hall. "Hey! Where are you going?"

He came to a stop and whipped around, hissing, "I'm busy!"

"What about Slugclub and the passageway tonight?" She asked, regret swallowing up any residual anger she had.

"I'll see you at Slugclub later," he gritted out.

Sadness seeped into her voice, "No secret passage?"

His eyes narrowed, and his arm twitched, drawing Jenny's eyes down to his hand. She noticed that his wand was clenched in a tight fist, his knuckles were beginning to turn white from his crushing grip. He heaved a deep, bothered sigh, and in a much milder tone than before simply said, "Not tonight."

"Fine," she said. Cool, bitter resentment had emerged from her disappointment, "I'm not going to be able to make it to Slugclub tonight."

He shook his head, "It's the second meeting of the year."

"I'm sure Slughorn will survive without my presence," she turned and stormed off, not wanting to give Tom the satisfaction of having his own dramatic exit.

* * *

 **AN:** And tensions rise. As we get closer to 5th year I figured we'd slow it down a bit and dip a toe into this writing style. When we get into major plot points from canon we're going to start taking it more slowed down, day-by-day approach.

That being said, thoughts? Any comments and critics are welcome. Thank you all for your time


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

* * *

 _No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart._

 _\- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby -_

* * *

The days following Jenny's dramatic exit were underlined by an absence of Tom. They still shared classes together, they continued to sit together, but the space between them had grown an immeasurable amount. The two refused to apologize to one another.

As the days turned into weeks, then into a month, Jenny made sure Tom's friends, or as she had taken to calling them in her head, 'minions' did not try to convince her to apologize. Lestrange only attempted to approach her once, but a well-placed glare was enough to keep him at bay. Avery tried multiple times to talk to her, and after the second bat-bogey hex, Jenny was beginning to suspect he was no longer approaching her as a 'concerned mutual friend', but rather he was being told to do it by Tom.

Slugclub meetings had gotten tense, both Jenny and Tom refused to give up the gatherings, making the tension in the room palpable and even eerie at times. It was evident the professors had begun to notice the hostility between the two, but none had set out to intervene yet. The professors' attention was limited, due to their monitoring of the sporadic attacks that Europe continued to face and contacting families on behalf of students to ensure they were okay.

As the seasons chilled from Autumn to Winter, the rage between them cooled. Neither side apologizing, but both came to an unspoken surrender. Jenny began speaking to Tom outside of the classroom again, and a sense of fragile peace settled over them.

A tightly packed snowball was pressed into the palm of Jenny's hand. She watched from around the corner of a building waiting for Tom to emerge from Dervish and Banges. He had gone in with Avery and Rosier to get some potion supplies. When she pushed for more information, Tom brushed her off, saying that it was just to practice for class. She had gone as far as to remind him that if it were for class, surely Professor Slughorn would lend him the ingredients, but he got annoyed and sent her to go 'look at clothes'. Grimacing at the memory, she decided a little payback was in order, and the fresh blanket of snow over Hogsmeade was the perfect weapon.

"What are you doing?" a voice questioned from behind her, causing the snowball to jump out of her hands.

"Oh, great," she moaned, pressing her cold fingers to her cheeks. Turning towards the offending voice, she whined, "Thanks, Lestrange."

With a low chuckle, he said, "Any time. Why are you skulking around corners though?"

"Tom's been a proper jerk, I was going to give him something to chew on," she gestured to the crumbled remnants of the ball.

"Looks like you've just lost your chance," Lestrange pointed out Tom walking from the shop carrying a small parcel, flanked by Avery and Rosier.

Shrugging, she muttered, "The humor of it would have been lost on him anyway."

"Would you like to join me in Three Broomsticks?" He asked. She stared blankly at him, with an almost puzzled expression. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, "I just figured since your original plans got canceled," he joked, motioning to the broken snowball, "and Mulciber and I were planning on meeting there for something to drink before heading back up to the castle. If you have nothing planned, you should join us."

"Sure," she said slowly, unsure if this was some type of trap. Lestrange was always so rude and snobbish, not whatever this was.

"Alright," he rubbed his hands together for warmth and started towards the pub, leaving Jenny to trail sluggishly behind him through the thick snow.

The pub was relatively busy, but they found a table in the back corner. They order drinks while they waited for Mulciber, Lestrange went with a tea, and Jenny picked hot chocolate.

Cupping her drink in an attempt to warm her hands, Jenny broke the silence first, "So, Malfoy's still captain of the quidditch team?"

He raised a brow at her questioningly, "I think so. He's in his sixth year, so he hasn't left yet."

"I guess you'll be able to make the team in fifth year then," she teased.

He forced out a laugh, "I guess. I wasn't really planning on trying out for it again."

"Last year you were going on about how you wanted to become a professional player," she said, growing confused.

With a noncommittal shrug, he said, "Riddle told me it was a waste of time, I think he's probably right."

"Tom's a git," she said dismissively. "If you want to play, then you should." He shrugged again and sipped his tea. After a beat of quiet between them, Jenny said, "Did you at least play some over summer?"

Shaking his head, he answered, "No."

"Well, what did you do this summer? Did you go on any fancy pureblood trips with your mum and dad?" She tried again, desperately. She didn't know much about him and was quickly running out of talking points.

"Uh—" he swallowed thickly and shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. "No, my dad was pretty busy, with his Ministry work and my mum—" he paused and then flatly said, "well, my mum died this summer. Dragon Pox, nasty stuff."

Jenny stared hard at her cup, studying the rims curb and the small wisps of steam rising from the chocolate drink. She didn't know what to say. Some children would come into the orphanage with freshly dead parents, but they mostly kept to themselves until it no longer made them upset. Everyone was parentless where she came from, it wasn't a talking point. The only person she had truly grieved for was Redan, and that was fleeting and only for a single night. Her eyes rose from the drink to find Lestrange had been studying his cup as well. "That's tough," was all she could think to say. "Sorry that you lost her."

He nodded, "Thanks, I figured you would be able to relate, because, well, you know."

Her brows furrowed in thought, then it hit her, he thought they could bond over their combined losses. His mother, her family. She felt bile rise in her throat. She wasn't sure what to say again, but a bubble of anger surfaced in her stomach and popped venomously. Their situations weren't the same; he lost his mum, but she lost her mum, dad, sister, and brother. She didn't grow up knowing them, he did. Sure she knew small things that Dumbledore shared with her, her father liked Herbology and her sister liked Transfiguration; or was it that her brother liked Transfiguration? She paused, no that didn't sound right either, she thought to herself, didn't one of them like Charms? She felt as though she could vomit. She lost even what little remnants of her family she did have. The memories of even the smallest things she found out about them washed away like sidewalk chalk on a rainy day.

She was saved from saying anything back because Mulciber chose that moment to walk in, "Sorry about the delay, I bumped into Riddle and got sidetracked. Oh, you brought along Endall."

"Hi." Jenny smiled, and conversationally, she asked, "What did Tom need?"

"Nothing," he said, a little too quickly. Jenny's eyes narrowed, but for the most part, she brushed it off. "How was your summer, Endall? I barely talk to you now, since your falling out with Avery and with your constant bickering with Tom," he teased.

"I had a good summer, uneventful. I was able to do a little gardening," she shrugged. Then quickly gulped down the rest of her drink, letting the empty cup fall heavily on to the table. "I actually need to get going, I have an essay I wanted to finish up."

She pushed away from the table, quickly fleeing the pub. Only pausing to wave back in reply to Mulciber and Lestrange's goodbyes.

The snow was thick and wet, clinging to Jenny's shoes with each step. Her scarf hung loosely around her shoulders, allowing the winter air to chill her face and neck. Yanking her gloves off her hands, she unceremoniously shoved the balled up gloves in her coat pocket, leaving more of her body exposed to the weather. A shiver racked through her body for a moment before it adjusted, her legs felt numb and heavy as she trudged slowly back to the castle. The forest acted as a still backdrop, silent and unmoving. She hadn't strayed towards the Forbidden Forest since the Hippogriff incident. She hated it. She hated that Tom had acted as her protector. She hated that she had been so helpless. The desire to enter it was replaced by a burning hatred. She wished that the whole forest would just go up in flames, so she'd never have to see it again. 'Like my family,' the small, twisted thought floated through her brain, and she nearly jumped from surprise.

She came to a stop in the middle of the snowy path, she was halfway between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. Her own thought anchoring her still in shock. The trail was empty, only the whispers of footprints in the snow indicated that she hadn't become the only person left on earth. Teardrops stung her cheeks as they streaked down, amplifying the arctic breeze. It didn't make sense, she looked down at her chapped, shaking hand as she captured one of the tears on the tip of her finger. She studied the drop with an intense level of scrutiny, as though the clear liquid had a hidden message that would be revealed given enough time. The emotion sat like a rock in her throat, uncomfortably shifting with each swallow and shallow breath she took. Throwing the scarf over her shoulder, she huffed, then clenched her hands into fists, painfully digging her nails into her palms. She shoved her fists roughly into her jacket pockets and started walking, willing whatever 'episode' she just experienced to never happen again. Tears were weak.

Once in the warm castle, she shedded her coat and scarf, then found herself seeking out Tom. He wasn't in the common room, his bedroom, or the library, she was stumped. As she walked from the library defeated, she considered seeking out Tom in the potions classroom, but quickly stubbed out that idea, knowing that regardless of what he said, whatever he was making was not something he wanted Professor Slughorn to ever know about. That was how she found herself pacing in a hallway, brainstorming where he could have vanished to. After her third, listless trek down the hall, her feet began to ache, and she played with the idea of just giving up her search and going to dinner, when she froze, a door handle catching her eye. She had passed that spot at least a dozen times going from the library to the Dungeons just that year, and she had never noticed a room before.

She opened the door, curiosity getting the better of her. The first thing that captured her eye was a large cauldron with a small flame flickering below, warming it. Pushed up against it was a long wooden desk where several ingredients were splayed and a mortar, appearing recently used, sat delicately on the edge.

"What are you doing? Come in or stay out!" A familiar, annoyed voice barked from behind the door.

She stepped in and dropped the door handle, allowing it to swing shut on its own accord, revealing Tom leaning over a large desk. A laugh bubbled from Jenny's mouth, "You have an office? I thought they only gave that to staff?" She was only joking, trying to tread lightly, not wanting to be sent away.

He did a double-take, and she was pleased to see, for once, that her presence was more commanding than his book. "Who let you in?" He demanded.

"I was under the impression you invited me in," she mocked playfully.

"I thought it was Avery or Rosier, maybe Mulciber, but definitely not you," he stood, stepping around his desk and over to the cauldron, observing the bubbling contents. "How did you find me?"

She stood beside him, staring down into the pot absentmindedly. "I have my secrets too," she answered mysteriously, but in all reality doubted she would be able to recreate whatever steps she took to make it happen. He hummed shrugging with mock disinterest, or maybe it was actual disinterest, Jenny stared at his profile, trying to read his face. Then she wondered allowed, "Why didn't you think I was Lestrange or Nott?"

"Lestrange is dreadful at potions and Nott, well, he's Nott," Tom explained with ease.

"Speaking of Lestrange," Jenny started, "his mum died. Has he mentioned that to you?"

Tom scoffed, "Yes, I suggested that you would probably sympathize more."

She was baffled as to what could have led Tom to believe this. "Why?" Was all she choked out.

"You lost your pureblood mother, he lost his pureblood mother. You could relate on a deeper level than me and my muggle mother." After a second, he added, "Also, I just didn't care."

"I had no idea what to tell him," she admitted quietly.

He shot a small smile towards her, "We're more alike than you'd like to believe."

Jenny carefully glanced over the ingredients Tom had picked up in Hogsmeade, wanting to change the topic. He had Jobberknoll Feathers, Sopophorous Beans, and some other things she couldn't name off the top of her head. In the mortar was a white, shimmering powder, her eyes narrowed, "Is that powdered moonstone?"

"That?" He asked, nonchalantly. "It is." Raising the heat on the cauldron, he walked back to his desk, taking a seat and pulling out a parchment and quill from the depths of the desk's drawer.

She thought for a moment, considering this information, then in an accusatory tone, she announced, "You're making veritaserum." Not bothering to mock either of their intelligence by asking.

"I am," he revealed carefully. His eyes were no longer on his parchment, but instead were studying her reaction.

She schooled her expression to a passive, uninterested stare, "May I ask what you would need truth serum for?"

"You may," he obliged. "Although you'll be disappointed with my answer." She watched him, and after staring each other down for a moment, he said with a delicate shrug, "You never know when you need it. It's a useful tool."

A dry laugh came in response from Jenny, "You would have a store of truth serum, 'just in case'."

"I like to be one step ahead," he disclosed with a smirk.

"I've noticed," she mumbled, wandering over to some shelves filled with various sized vials, beakers, and jars. "How did you even find a room like this? It's so -I don't know- specific."

She never did get a response, because just then the door swung open. She jumped, dropping the empty vial she had been looking at, which broke into tiny, glittering pieces of glass sprinkling across the floor.

Mulciber plowed in the room, allowing the door to slam shut behind him, then without much pause asked, "Riddle, do you have that bookcase in here right now?" Jenny wasn't even sure he had noticed her.

"Not today," Tom responded in annoyance to him.

"Not today?" Jenny asked, causing both sets of eyes to snap towards her.

"Not today," Tom confirmed. "You really don't have a clue as to where we are, do you?"

Jenny felt her cheeks heat up and quickly defended herself, "I know it's no ordinary room." She distracted herself from the embarrassment by mumbling a spell to repair the vial she had broken.

"What are you doing here, Endall? I didn't even know you knew about this place. Besides, I thought you had an essay you wanted to work on," Mulciber mentioned, eyeing her curiously.

"I had a question for Tom," she quickly lied, looking helplessly to Tom.

He shot her a look that implied she owed him an explanation, but to his credit he quickly caught on, embellishing the lie with, "She was struggling with the History of Magic essay, have you even started it?"

"No. Should I? When is it due again?" Mulciber asked.

"Tomorrow," Tom sighed in irritation. "Honestly, I'd think you'd care more for your marks."

"Bloody hell," he breathed. "I better get going. See ya, Endall. Later, Riddle."

He left, leaving Jenny and Tom alone again. "I didn't even know there was a History of Magic essay," Jenny groaned in defeat.

"There isn't," Tom chuckled. "I'm sure he'll figure that out when nobody else in the common room knows about one either."

"Oh, you shouldn't have scared him like that," she scolded halfheartedly, mostly because Tom had tricked her too.

"You forced my hand," he explained, not sounding like he had a qualm with it. "Which brings us to why you lied to poor, trusting Mulciber in the first place. I hadn't realized you were so— manipulative."

"It was silly really," she said, feeling like a child that had been caught drawing on the walls.

"I'll tell you what," Tom started with a Cheshire smile. "You tell me why you misled Mulciber, and I'll tell you about this room."

"Alright," she agreed greedily, her desire to learn some of Tom's secrets overshadowing the embarrassment. "I lied because Lestrange had me cornered in Three Broomsticks and was talking about his dead mum, then Mulciber showed up and got him off the topic, but I just felt—" the long string of words came to a pause as her brain scrambled to place a name on the emotion, "off," she finished, sounding uncertain.

Tom nodded, seeming pleased. "Now, why might that be?" He asked rhetorically, but he looked to her for an answer.

"What do you mean?" She found herself, not for the first time that year, feeling exposed. As though her inner-most thoughts were behind a transparent film, allowing them to be plucked from her mind like fresh fruit from a tree.

"Why did you feel, 'off'?" He asked. The sound of the bubbling cauldron in the corner amplified, making the room claustrophobic and uncomfortable.

"I don't know," she felt, at that moment, like the frail lady Mrs. Cole and Tom insisted she should be. She had been climbing up the mountain that was her confidence ever since the incident in the forest, and with one probing question, she had been toppled back down, her footing lost.

He hummed and tutted in disapproval. Then after a drawn-out silence, with faux disappointment, he sighed, "What a shame. I was hoping you'd be more willing to share."

"I told you the truth," she snapped, resisting the urge to stomp her foot like an insolent child. "I shared all that I can."

"This leaves us with a problem," he began, wolfishly. Stepping around his desk, he started pacing slowly in the center of the office. "There's a power imbalance now. If I were to share all that I know about this room, then you would be getting more from this exchange than I got from your half story that was filled with uncertainty," he scolded lightly.

"So you're going back on our deal," she gritted out flatly.

He shot her a blank, almost withering stare, and said, "I wasn't finished. I'm proposing, that instead, I offer you this: You can tag along with me—"

"What would that include?"

"I'm not finished," he bit, sounding more annoyed now. "You can tag along with me, but it's up to my discretion. I'll bring you places like this room, maybe even through a passageway or two."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, stubbornly, "So, what you're saying is that nothing changes? You were using your 'discretion' before, and you never let me go anywhere with you."

"Yes, I was uncertain if you would be difficult, but from what I've seen today, you have proven that maybe you won't be as impossible as I'd thought. I can see some potential," he explained impatiently.

"Gee, really, mister? Potential in me?!" She teased sarcastically. Then bitterly pointed out, "You tend to give me a lot of backhanded compliments."

He was busying himself with the potion again, barely making any indication that he had heard her beside a quiet, "I hadn't noticed," but she would've sworn she saw a flash of a sly smirk.

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry this one is a little shorter than normal. The next chapter has been written already and it actually makes up for the difference and then some. I think y'all are gonna like the next chapter


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

* * *

 _Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them are things people are scared of. Some of them are things that look like things people used to be scared of a long time ago. Sometimes monsters are things people should be scared of, but they aren't._

 _\- Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane -_

* * *

Pollen tickled at Jenny's nose. Bleary-eyed and with a yawn, she lifted her head from the bed. Her brain oddly gravitated towards the source of pollen coating the room. Immediately, she spotted a bouquet of daisies that was being gushed over and nearly smothered by two of her roommates. She suppressed an eye roll at their infatuation, gathering from a blurb of the conversation, that it had been from some boy. The flowers were scruffy and unkempt, appearing to be hand-picked from the grounds. Sniffling from the allergens, she sighed to herself and started the morning. Soon finding herself lazily strolling from the common room up to the Great Hall. Looking out the windows at the crisp green grass, she absentmindedly tried to guess the time. She knew she had a late start in the day since her roommates had woken before her.

She entered the Great Hall, and her suspicions were confirmed upon spotting Tom and his minions already at the Slytherin table. In spite of herself, a small smile tugged at her lips when she spied Tom's annoyed scowl as he begrudgingly watched Lestrange and Avery bickering. Hovering in the doorway, she took a moment to enjoy the calm before they became aware of her presence, the spell was prematurely broken when she heard a snide comment from the Ravenclaw table.

The piercing voice sneered, "I know. I mean it's just so sad that some people don't have anyone, no family, no friends. I wouldn't be surprised if they acted like slags for attention."

Jenny's stomach jolted, taken aback by the apparent jab towards her, although she internally noted, its inaccuracy because she at least had Tom. She willed herself to start walking again, to move towards the Slytherin table and ignore the comment. Her legs agreed after a second, but the sticky feeling of eyes watching her, tugged her head to quickly steal a look at the girl who had made the remark. A group of Ravenclaws had been watching her, and they giggled, looking back towards their plates when her eyes found them. Jenny's body heated uncomfortably, and she knew that an embarrassed blushed had swallowed her face. Walking a little quicker than average, she hastily shortened the trek to the Slytherin table. Feeling more secure in her home territory she let out a relieved sigh, sliding into the seat on Tom's right, Avery had already been seated on his left.

"At least someone's relaxed," Tom pointedly snipped.

"What's going on now?" Jenny asked over Lestrange loudly protesting something Avery said.

"You won't be relaxed for much longer," Tom insisted, gesturing in annoyance towards the two arguing. "They won't give it a break, and some of us are trying to have a nice breakfast," he announced the last part loudly, glaring towards the two.

"What's going on with them?" She tried asking again. Busying her hands with pouring a cup of tea and holding it close to her, allowing the steam to brush soothingly against her lips and cheeks.

"They're trying to guess what—" there was a hush in conversation as owls fluttered into the room, causing an excited murmur to replace the usual chatter.

The argument was placed on a temporary hold as a letter was plopped in front of Avery. Mulciber, seated across the table from them, received a small package as well, holding Rosier, Nott, and Lestrange's attention while he peeled back the brown packaging.

"Finally, some peace." Tom groaned, digging his fork into his scrambled eggs aggressively.

"But what was that all about?" She questioned with exasperation for the third time.

"It was nothing," he dismissed her while grabbing another fork full of eggs, frowning briefly as several pieces slipped off the fork and back to the plate.

Nott spoke through a mouth full of toast, "He's annoyed because they're tryin' to guess wha' his Boggar' gonna be." Swallowing the large bite, he continued, "Avery thinks it's going to be something like a snake or spider." Jenny glanced at Tom, sending him a knowing smile. Tom shrugged in return, but there was an amused sparkle in his eyes. She looked back at Nott, nodding for him to continue, and he obliged, "Lestrange thinks it's going to be Dumbledore."

"Like I would ever be scared of that old fool," Tom sneered, sounding offended.

"The more you deny it, the more certain I become," Lestrange confided in a snobbish tone, which was refreshing for Jenny to hear him back to his condescending ways.

"Watch yourself, Lestrange," Tom nearly hissed back, causing the playful atmosphere at their table to dissipate.

If Jenny had been younger, trying to form a camaraderie between the people Tom surrounded himself with, she may have tried to ease the anxious feeling shared among the minions, she may have even scolded Tom. Today, however, she was content with chewing a piece of muffin deliberately and enjoying the quiet that had captured everyone's tongues. Pretending Tom hadn't even scolded Lestrange so harshly she said, "I've been thinking about it, Tom," saying his name once to pull his attention from his eggs, "it would only make sense if there are some passageways that lead outside the castle."

"There are," he said, stopping her from continuing the redundant train of thought.

She frowned, "There are? How come you haven't taken me through it?"

"I show you things based on my discretion, remember?"

Indignantly she asked, "You think I'm going to be upset about a passage that leads outside of the castle?"

"No," he answered, sounding annoyed he even had to explain, "I think you're going to abuse the passage and get yourself into trouble."

"You know I can handle myself," she said, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.

Dismissively he waved her off saying, "We'll see how the Boggart lesson goes today." The single condescending sentence made her stomach curdle with anxiety.

Jenny's nerves frayed more as their DADA lesson drew closer, which led to an unfortunate accident for Avery when he tried to pick up a conversation with her about summer plans during Transfiguration. She turned to scowl at him in the middle of casting a charm, and his textbook caught the spell that had been intended for just a single piece of paper, causing the binding to rip apart as the book's pages transformed into dozens of ladybugs. By the time Dumbledore was able to transfigure his pages back, some of his book had crawled into cracks in the wall or taken flight out the window, leaving the repaired book missing several spells and appearing worse for wear.

When the time finally came for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Jenny was nearly shaking in anticipation. She and Tom were in their usual seats, waiting for class to begin, when Jenny saw a distinctly familiar face from breakfast walk in and flounce towards some other Ravenclaws, that also looked vaguely familiar, taking a seat at a desk near the front of the room. Then it hit Jenny, that was the girl who had been trying to get Tom to tutor her at the beginning of the school year.

"Hey," Jenny nudge Tom, "do you know that girl?" She kept her voice low, not wanting to draw the girls unwanted attention again.

"Her?" Tom asked, pointing with his wand delicately to the girl in question.

"Don't point," she scolded quickly, grabbing the tip of his wand and dragging it down. "Yeah her. What's her name again?"

"It's Doris Crouch. Why are you asking about her?" She had his full attention now, regardless if she wanted it.

"I was just curious," she quickly whipped up a lie to shake him off, "Nott pointed her out to me, and mentioned that he had a crush on her."

"Really?" Tom asked, voice full of skepticism. Jenny scoured her mind, trying to figure out what had clued him into the lie. He continued, "When did he mention this to you?"

She froze, trying to think of a time she had been alone with Nott. It had to have happened at least once, she thought frantically. "I think it was this past Friday," it came out sounding like a question.

"Are you going to stop lying to me now?" Tom said lowly, there was a twinge of anger and disappointment in his voice.

Jenny opened her mouth, not really knowing what she was planning to say, but what came out was a whispered, "Thank Merlin," as Professor Merrythought entered the room.

"Please," her mellow voice croaked, the room snapped to her attention. "Thank you," she bobbed her head. "Although it was supposed to be a surprise, I'm sure all of you already know, we will be picking up where we left off in the Boggart lesson today." There was excited chattering, which she controlled with a single raised hand, signaling them to stop. "The bombing campaign in England is finally at its end, thankfully. I had begun to worry we'd miss this half of the lesson entirely this year. Now, let's jump into it, shall we? Can I have you all come to the front?"

The students stood and scurried to the front of the room eagerly. Tom muttered in Jenny's ear as he walked next to her, "Don't think you're getting out of it, I expect an explanation after class." She in response, swatted Tom's face away from her ear, shooting him a halfhearted glare.

"Alright excellent," the professor muttered softly, mostly to herself. The desks disappeared a moment later, and in their place, a wardrobe appeared. "Please line up single file in front of the wardrobe." Tom shoved Jenny in front of him, and Tom's minions fell in line behind him. In front of Jenny, it appeared to be mostly Ravenclaws, the two houses wanting to stay with their own. "I won't go over the lesson again, as this was the only part we hadn't completed. As a quick refresher, you need to picture the Boggart turning into something funny and say 'Riddikulus' to banish it." The professor's voice dropped in volume, as she addressed the person in the front of the line, "Ready?"

The line shortened slowly as each student had their time in front of the wardrobe. The Boggart transformed into snakes and spiders many times, once it had even taken the form of a bat, which had Jenny, and most Slytherins, laughing before the Riddikulus charm had even been cast. Tom was absorbed in each transformation of the Boggart and the person that it was paired with. He was seemingly committing it to memory, which made it impossible to hold a conversation with him, leaving Jenny to mull over her own nearing turn.

Jenny knew that how she handled this would determine how much Tom would think she could handle in the future. Pushing her thoughts away from the pressure, she instead focused on wondering what form the Boggart would take. She had to start imagining different funny things to transform it into now before it was too late, she couldn't risk a slip-up. This left her with something she hadn't contemplated before, what was she scared of? Was it Wool's being destroyed? She wondered if the Boggart would turn into the entire shambled building or just a simple telephone with bad news on the other end. Sniggering to herself, she shook the thought free. Maybe the Boggart would turn into that foul man that had tried to adopt her all those years ago. Tom would be furious, she could picture the rage he had felt back then appearing on his face again, as though the encounter had only been moments ago. She decided at that moment that if the Boggart did take his form, she would chase him away with snakes, to pay homage to Tom. Another possibility could be a Hippogriff, although she didn't think she feared the beast so much as she feared getting caught unprepared by one.

"Ms. Endall, are you ready?" The question made Jenny jump, she looked up to find herself standing in front of the wardrobe.

"Yes," she announced, squaring her shoulders and clenching her wand tightly in her hand. One thought entered her mind before the wardrobe swung open, 'I bet it's going to be a stupid Hippogriff.'

The scream hit her ears before she could register the Boggart's form, and the sound made her blood run cold. Then she saw it, or rather him, Tom writhing in pain, blood pouring from his mouth, his neck tattooed with a dark bruise that traveled below the collar of his shirt. The scene was too familiar, she could have bet money that there was an oversized handprint on his body.

"Jenny?" Professor Merrythought's voice said, she sounded far away. Jenny tried to pull her attention to the professor, but the screaming Tom on the ground had petrified her. The dumb saucers that had become her eyes were glued open, watching in horror as her childhood friend died the slow, painful way Redan had. She knew now that the night Redan died, the silent screams from the snake hadn't been so silent for Tom.

Jenny's line of sight to the Boggart was broken as the professor stepped in front of her. Her robe sleeve was tugged by someone, guiding her a few steps back, giving the professor elbow room. She looked towards the person who had pulled her to find non-boggart Tom watching her with an unreadable expression. She grimaced in return and turned back to Professor Merrythought as the Boggart transformed from a giant werewolf to a small, yipping brown dog. The professor flicked her wand, sending the dog back into the wardrobe with a thump.

"I think that's enough excitement for one day," the professor announced to the class, careful not to look towards Jenny, or Tom for that matter. "Next class we'll be reviewing before summer starts just to keep the lessons fresh, so please come with your book. That means you, Nott."

"Oi, Rosier's just as bad as me about it," Nott declared loudly.

With that, the students began filtering out of the room, all except Jenny who had been asked quietly by the professor to speak with her after class. When the room had become empty, Jenny gingerly approached the desk, she unstuck her eyes from the floor to find the aged professor gaze worrying over her. She wished, at that moment, it was possible to die from humiliation as the professor asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," she nearly whispered.

"At the orphanage? Wool's? You can speak with anyone on the staff here if you aren't being treated right. It doesn't have to be me."

"With all due respect ma'am, I'm being treated fine. Tom is too. It was just, my — pet, my pet rabbit," she explained, drawing inspiration from an accusation Mrs. Cole had about Tom several years ago. "He was squeezed by another child at the orphanage and died. I guess since Tom is all I have left now—" she shrugged, allowing the professor to put the rest together.

The aging woman studied her for a moment, then simply said, "I'm sorry about your rabbit."

"Thank you," Jenny accepted it quickly, then said, "It was a while ago now, so it doesn't bug me much." Although the Boggart seemed to think otherwise, she added silently.

"That was all I wanted to discuss, Ms. Endall." Professor Merrythought dismissed her.

Jenny turned and left the room without further comment. She wanted nothing more than to skip potions and spend the rest of the day hiding in her room, or maybe in Tom's disappearing office if he was willing to open it for her. All wishful thinking was stamped out when she found Tom waiting for her in the hall.

She dreaded what he remarks he had stored up. She began the lecture for him, "I know. I failed your test."

She braced herself for her inevitable loss in grace, going back to square one where even the smallest things wouldn't be shared with her, but instead, he surprised her by merely asking, "Why did you ask about the Crouch girl?"

A relieved breath escaped her, and she nearly smiled. Too tired to lie she admitted, "Some Ravenclaw girl made a comment about my lack of family and friends. She even called me a slag." She looked at Tom's face, which was an impassive mask, then added, "I'm not sure if it was Crouch, but she was sitting with the group of girls the insults came from."

"Would you recognize the voice if you heard it again?"

After some consideration, Jenny said, "I think so."

"I think we're overdue for a game, wouldn't you agree?" A predatory smile spread across his face.

"Yes," she agreed without hesitation.

His smile widened as he gave her a hearty pat on the back, "I knew you'd come around."

The day fluttered by in a whirlwind after that. Jenny's mind drifted through class, circling around different 'games' that she and Tom could play with the guilty Ravenclaw. She had never been a genuinely active person in Tom's plots when they were at the orphanage. She had always simply played along when it was needed, and he would do the rest, 'I don't want to know' was what she always told him. This time was different, she would prove to him she had what it takes to be included in all of his projects.

Jenny's dinner was getting cold as she moved it around her plate, too lost in her own thoughts to eat. She wondered if Tom would have her hit the girl with a bat-bogey hex or if they would just trick the Ravenclaw into losing house points or getting detention. Her wonderings were immediately put on pause when Tom put his fork onto his dinner plate with a slight clang. She had been hyper-aware of him since the decision, in anticipation for the game to begin.

He cleared his throat, and Jenny's eyes snapped to him, "Are you done with dinner?" He asked, conversationally.

"Yes," Jenny answered immediately. To her surprise, Avery also gave a quiet, yes to Tom.

"Excellent," Tom praised. "Jenny, you're going to go talk to Avery by the door, while I speak with the Ravenclaw girls. Now, for this to work, you have to be listening for their voices, okay?"

She was a little annoyed he had already set up the first part of the game without her and explained it like she was a child, but she nodded anyway, not wanting to spoil the chance he was giving her.

Avery and Tom both stood, Jenny, rose from her seat and stumbled over her own feet for a moment before getting her footing. Tom shook his head and sauntered behind Avery and Jenny, allowing them to take the lead. She stopped when Avery reached out for her arm and turned her to face him.

"Don't grab me," she snarled.

Avery rolled his eyes, "We're doing you a favor. The least you could do it not screw up the most important part, without a target we're dead in the water."

Jenny's eyes shot over to the group of girls, and she spotted Tom had broken off from them already and was approaching them. "We need to get closer to them," she said suddenly. "I'm not sure we're going to hear them from here."

"Great," Avery grumbled. "Okay, come on."

He started walking towards the Slytherin table, tugging Jenny by the sleeve with him. They approached Malfoy, who was seated almost too close to where the Ravenclaw girls were at their table.

Almost immediately Jenny tuned out Malfoy and Avery to listen to the Ravenclaw girls.

"Hello, Riddle," a nasally voice said upon Tom's approach.

"Good evening, Ms. Eibon," Tom greeted back.

"What brings you to the Ravenclaw table this evening," another voice purred.

"I had a question, Ms. — I apologize I don't believe we've been properly introduced," he said smoothly.

"Sandra Atherton," the girl supplied.

"Ms. Atherton," Tom amended. "I'm Tom Riddle." Jenny could nearly see it in her mind's eye as he reached across the table to shake her hand. She blinked once and realized she had been staring at a basket of rolls, awkwardly she let her eyes drift and went back to listening.

"What was your question?" Another girl asked. Jenny's eyes widened as she recognized the voice. She forced herself not to turn and look to see who had spoken.

Her concentration was broken by a gentle nudge from Avery, "What?" Jenny asked impatiently.

"Malfoy was wondering what your summer plans were," Avery explained.

"Nothing," she answered a little harshly, as she desperately tried to catch the girl's name. Avery chuckled uncomfortably, quickly brushing off Jenny's rudeness, desperately explaining it away in an attempt to do some damage control.

She caught the tail end of a girl saying to Tom "— notes. Doris is a dreadful note taker, I could give you mine."

"My notes are fine!" The Ravenclaw that had been rude to Jenny defended herself quickly. Doris, she mulled over the name, she had heard it today somewhere. The memory floated to the surface of her brain. Doris, as in Doris Crouch from DADA. Her chest swelled with pride, she knew who it was. Tom was going to be so happy with her.

She turned to Avery and interrupted his conversation with Malfoy by saying, "I think I left my potions book in class. Will you come with me to fetch it?"

Avery nodded and said a few parting words with Malfoy then began walking with Jenny out the Great Hall.

Halfway out the door, Avery said, "So who is it?"

"Crouch," Jenny answered proudly.

"I'll be right back, don't worry about waiting for me, you can go to the common room." With that, he turned and went back into the Great Hall.

She frowned at this, something didn't sit right with her. Concealing herself behind a wall, she peaked around, watching as Avery approached Tom, who was still chatting with the Ravenclaw girls. Cupping Tom's ear Avery whispered something, obviously making a big show of this on purpose. Tom nodded once, then Avery turned to leave again. Jenny ducked out of view quickly and moved behind a suit of armor, crouching down slightly and pressing against the wall to make herself as hidden as possible. In horror, she realized Avery was bound to walk past her hiding spot when he went to the Slytherin common room.

She held her breath, knowing she was bound to get caught, but the moment never came. She counted in her head to 60, giving him a minute, then another minute, but he never came. Standing from her hiding spot, she peered around the hall for him, but found it deserted, she concluded that he must have gone the other way. All pondering about Avery's location came to a screeching halt as her ears caught Tom's polite chuckle ring from the Great Hall into the hallway. He was close.

"I really couldn't believe it myself!" Crouch exclaimed laughing along with Tom.

"This way," Tom directed her, their voices more echoic and loud, they were in the hallway now.

Jenny poked her head gingerly around the armor and saw that they too were walking away from the Slytherin common room. She slipped out from behind her hiding spot, following the pair down the hall, keeping some distance in case Tom decided to turn around. The three continued through the castle in near silence, Jenny following discreetly, Crouch occasionally making small talk, and Tom occasionally indulging her.

Jenny nearly gasped when she realized what hallway they had ventured to. She hid around a corner, carefully watching as Tom and Crouch approached the disappearing office. Avery stepped out in an almost blatantly rehearsed way, stopping to hold the door open for the pair. Tom nodded, and although Jenny was too far away to hear, she knew he thanked Avery, to play into the careful charade they had created for Crouch. The two entered the room, Avery let the door fall shut behind them, and it melted back into the wall.

Jenny knew what had happened— or will happen. Tom had played the game. Their game. No, she corrected herself, it was his game. She wondered bitterly if it was always like this, even at the orphanage when they were kids. Would Tom target kids bugging her and scare them away solely out of boredom? This wasn't for her, Crouch being toyed with in such a way, it would never make Jenny feel better or vindicated. The cave and Dennis and Amy's tortured faces flashed to her mind, and cynically she wondered if Tom did that out of some sort of protective duty towards her or if he just wanted entertainment. Jenny decided on the latter. It made her feel sick, that she and everyone else were just puppets for Tom's manipulation and amusement. She hopelessly wanted to hate him for it, but in the pit of her stomach, she knew that if she was placed in front of a Boggart, it would still transform into that a screaming, bruised, Tom. Maybe, she thought to herself, she didn't hate Tom so much as she hated that stupid Boggart.

The next morning at breakfast, the Ravenclaw girls were missing one. Jenny wondered icily if Crouch was in the hospital wing or if she was just too scared to show her face. Without Mrs. Cole here, breathing down Tom's neck, Jenny made an educated guess the girl was in the hospital wing. She approached the Slytherin table, it was unchanged, Lestrange was chatting with Mulciber quietly, and Avery was bickering playfully with Rosier. Tom sat quietly among them, soaking in the peace like a vacationer at the beach. She took her usual seat next to Tom, smoothing out her skirt and tucking the edges under her legs.

Tom spoke first, "Good morning."

"Morning," she answered quietly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept wonderfully and yourself?"

"I slept fine." She chewed a piece of bacon thoughtfully then asked, "Are we going to finish up the game today?"

"I already took care of it," he declared proudly.

On the tip of her lips danced the words, 'I know,' but when she spoke, they came out wrong, "Oh, really? Okay." Her mouth pulled into a tight smile.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

* * *

 _The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places._

 _\- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms -_

* * *

The dusty air nearly choked Jenny as she dug in the flower bed. It was where she took refuge most summer days now, and according to Mrs. Cole, as long as she didn't touch the rose bush, she could continue to work in the garden. The project had provided an escape from Tom, for the most part.

A small snake coiled along the orphanage wall and soil she had been plucking weeds from. Its forked tongue poked impishly out at Jenny. Heaving a deep sigh, she whispered, "Did Tom send you?"

The snake made no indication that it heard her, and she grimaced at her own actions. Shaking her head, she pulled out a spade that had been caked in soil from many days of use and carefully slid the tool under the snake's body. After successfully scooping it up, she stood from her kneeling position and crossed the yard allowing her muscle memory to deposit the snake in a set of bushes, hidden away from the other children.

Returning to the flower bed, she continued plucking away weeds until it was spotless. Mrs. Cole's rose bush and the lilies Jenny had planted were no longer being bogged down by weeds, and they seemed to perk up almost instantly. She smiled to herself as she took the gloves off her hands and began placing her gardening supplies in a small rusted pail Mrs. Cole had lent her.

"You're wasting your time. They'll all die come winter," a low voice spoke from behind her.

She didn't bother turning to look at the speaker as she replied evenly, "It's good practice for Herbology, there's more than one way around the trace." She pulled the pail gingerly from the ground by its handle, wincing as it squeaked in protest.

Tom scoffed, "Lowering yourself to muggle labor isn't a 'way around the trace'."

"I know," she resigned, not wanting to bicker.

Seeming pleased, he changed the topic, "Mrs. Cole sent me."

Squinting into the sun, she looked up at him, "I've already had lunch."

"It's not that," he started. "She's worried about you."

"Why would she be?" Jenny asked incredulously.

"You barely do anything but work in the garden!" Tom exclaimed.

"I do not! This flower bed was filled with weeds!"

"It's not anymore," he explained patiently. Then he gestured across the yard to another preened flower bed and asked, "What about that one?" Then pointing towards the orphanage, he said, "And the ones in the front you've been breaking your back over?"

"I don't see how it's a problem," she sniffed.

"Oh, and let's not forget about the flower pots that you bought and filled with herbs," he huffed indignantly.

"That was for everyone! It gives us fresh herbs in meals and saves money for Wool's. I don't understand what I'm doing wrong!" She defended herself quickly.

"Mrs. Cole is going to call a doctor if you don't start acting normal," Tom warned her darkly.

"This is normal," she wanted to scream it, but it came out in level tone, if not a little tense.

He merely sighed softly to himself, then said, "Come up to my room, like the old times. I think that would put everyone at ease."

She nodded, allowing him to pull the pail from her grip and place it next to the backdoor. "I don't get why you can read all day, but I can't garden all day."

"Of course not," Tom tsked as they enter the kitchen, yanking open a cabinet door and pulling a glass from inside. Carefully he filled it with water then held it in front of Jenny. She looked skeptically at him. "Drink," he demanded. "Mrs. Cole will certainly call a doctor if you pass out from dehydration."

"I'm not thirsty," she hissed stubbornly, but took the glass all the same and began drinking. The cup emptied quickly, feeding Jenny's annoyance and Tom's ego. Lowering the cup to hand back to him, her eyes widen as she spotted a teenaged boy watching her from over Tom's shoulder.

Tom stiffened at her expression and turned to look at whatever had evoked such a reaction. The teenager's eyes snapped away from them. Moving in front of Jenny to shield her away from the boy's gaze, Tom snarled, "She's 14, you creep."

The teenaged boy hurried from the kitchen, and Jenny was mortified, "Merlin, Tom. I don't think he meant it that way."

He shrugged, "Either way, he was staring. I don't trust that _muggle_. Come on, let's go." He climbed the stairs taking two steps at a time, forcing Jenny to quicken her pace as to not be left behind.

Tom's room was cool compared to the summer heat. Jenny smiled out of impulse, having almost forgotten how much she missed the childhood comfort of hiding away in his room. Plopping unceremoniously down onto his previously unwrinkled bedsheets, she automatically turned to look out his window, but the new layer of paint covering the glass made it look like a picture frame displaying a black image.

Pressing her head against the chilled glass, she sighed. "When will the blackout be over?"

"When will the war be over?" Tom shot back dryly. "Your sulking like this isn't helping your case."

She removed her head from the window, staring blankly at him, she snidely noted, "I thought it was just Mrs. Cole that was worried." She swung her head dramatically looking around the room, "I'm not seeing her, so my case can't be hurt."

Tom rolled his eyes, "Mrs. Cole does have a point. You're acting abnormally."

"Abnormal for a muggle," Jenny baited Tom, hoping to play into his bias.

He shook his head in disagreement, "No, this is something else."

"It doesn't matter," she shot back stubbornly. Then with little tact, she attempted to distract him, "Have you received any letters from your friends?"

"No, I told them not to write unless it was urgent," Tom answered. Then he circled back to their original topic, "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing's going on with me," she responded, exasperated. Her eyes narrowed at the floor, paying particular attention to the different scuffs and chips it had accumulated from years of wear.

With a surrendering sigh, Tom said, "How about I read to you, like when we were kids?"

She looked towards him now, scanning over his serious expression for any hint of deception, but after finding none, she nodded, "I'd like that."

His voice buzzed in a calm, even tone, and she tuned him out almost immediately. He had picked some book about Bards and Beatles, a book for wizard children and was filled with short, fantasy stories. She had nearly fallen asleep when Tom stood, causing the bed to shift and the springs to squeak from the change in weight.

Rubbing her eyes, she looked to him, and sleepily asked, "Is the book finished?"

"No, but it's nearly time for dinner and the blackout."

"I'm not hungry, do you think I could get away with skipping dinner and going to bed?" Jenny asked.

With a chuckle, Tom said, "As long as your not in the garden I think Mrs. Cole won't mind, just this once. Would you like some tea before bed?"

"Yes please," she muttered, tiredly burying her face in the blankets.

Drifting between sleep and awake her ears tuned into the sound of Tom's trunk hinges swinging open. There was a pause, and her mind floated for a second drifting deeper into sleep. Then there was movement again tugging her attention away from dreaming, she could hear books being shifted and items being jostled slowly. Then there was another pause and the trunk closed with a muted thump. Tom's socked feet padded from the room, shutting the door behind him.

Sleep encased her mind while she waited for the tea, only to awaken from slumber by the door creaking open loudly and the handle smacking against the wall. She jumped up, startled from the commotion, but quickly settled down upon seeing Tom carrying a plate with two steaming teacups.

Gingerly he lifted a cup from the platter and handed it to Jenny. She breathed in the warm, welcoming smell of the drink and sipped it happily.

"Thank you," she mumbled to him, taking another draw from the cup.

Tom drank his much slower than Jenny, leaving him with half a cup by the time she finished.

"Are you excited to go back to Hogwarts?" He asked suddenly.

"Yes," she said immediately in reply, "the blackouts are dreadful."

"They are," Tom agreed quietly. "What class are you most excited about?"

Her answer greeted his question as soon as it left his mouth, "Herbology."

"Is that why you're doing so much work on the garden?"

Her tongue felt warm and light, "No."

"Then why have you been doing so much work in the garden?" He asked quickly.

"I—" her thoughts were bogged down. The words spilled out with little resistance, "I'm avoiding you." She didn't know why she had even answered.

He looked at with a mixture of interest and bewilderment, "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I resent what you did to the Ravenclaw girl. It wasn't genuine," her mind was in a panic, trying to catch up to the words as she spoke them.

"Not genuine?" He scoffed to himself. Then looking to her with a frown, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you're cruel for fun and nothing else." She placed a hand over her mouth, shocked by the bluntness of her own statement.

His brow crinkled in thought, "I think it's time you go to bed."

"I'm so sorry, Tom," her voice was shaking as guilt began collecting in liquid form along her eyelashes. "I don't know why I said that. I don't know what's happening."

He shrugged, "You didn't say anything you didn't think was true."

"I — I'm," she opened her mouth wanting to declare proudly that she didn't think it was true, but her tongue was weighed down suddenly, glued to her jaw by an unmovable force.

Tom sighed, "Just leave."

She nodded, placing the teacup to perch delicately at the edge of his desk and fled the room, leaving her words to linger in the air.

The next morning, Jenny skipped breakfast, finding herself instead seeking out Tom. The shadowy hallways were abandoned, the children either sleeping in or gathered in the kitchen for food. She went to Tom's bedroom first, pushing the dented, squeaky door aside to reveal the empty room.

She released a breath she had been holding and entered the room. Sunlight streamed in muted rays through the black paint, leaving the dimmed bedroom feeling eerie. Moving to Tom's desk, she looked over the scattered objects, as though she could piece together his thoughts from the contents. There was a thick envelope that had its green wax seal broken, it was placed next to a short candle that had the majority of its own wax pooled around the base. There were several parchments covered in Tom's italic, smooth handwriting, she skimmed the words but quickly grew bored as they were all just notes on a transfiguration book. A cork was placed on top of one of the parchments. The cork was still damp and stained the paper with liquid, causing the ink to spider out in fractals. The companion to the cork was a nearly empty potions bottle, holding only a small amount of clear liquid on the bottom. The bottle was perched atop an old book, the edges were worn, and the cover read, A Guide to Lineages: Purebloods Through the Ages. Jenny frowned at the title and ran a finger along the worn spine, wondering how many hours Tom had spent scanning this book for his father.

"Snooping?" The question came from behind Jenny.

She jumped, turning quickly to find Tom leaning on the door frame, a scowl plastered to his face. "I was looking for you," she explained unabashed.

"Here I am," was his curt reply.

"There you are," she echoed distantly, suddenly realizing how little her presence was wanted.

"What do you want?" He pressed, not hiding his annoyance from his voice.

"I'm sorry," she explained. "I didn't mean what I said last night. I don't even know why I said it. It was rude and, I don't know, I've just been off lately."

"I think you meant exactly what you said," he crossed the floor slowly, grabbing the cork off his desk and twisting it between his forefinger and thumb. "I think you still mean it too."

"You can't possibly think that I genuinely—" she started, but he spoke over her.

"I do. Don't insult my intelligence and I won't insult yours," he said gravely.

Although she came to apologize, she found herself scoffing, "You're one to talk. Almost everything you do insults my intelligence."

"We're getting awfully egotistical."

"Oh, please, I've learned it from the best," she quipped.

"Looks like you still need a lesson or two. Are we done here?" He asked.

"Whatever," she slammed his door behind her.

* * *

The compartment door slid shut with a bang as Nott entered. The train creaked and shuddered as it shot to Hogwarts. Tom's minions surrounded Jenny on both sides. Tom seated across from her, stared with a scowl that had been frozen on his face since Jenny's outburst that past Summer. She frowned back at him, they hadn't spoken since, yet out of habit, here they sat together.

"What do you think?" Avery asked her with a nudge. She blinked looking to the boy in question and found that everyone else in the compartment was also watching expectantly for her input.

"I think—" she shook her head, "I think I should go," standing from her seat, she whispered a spell to levitate her trunk.

"What? Was it something I said?" Mulciber called as her trunk followed her from the compartment into the hallway.

The train cart jumped, as she wobbled away, peaking into cabins as she went, hoping to spot an empty one. By the time she reached the back of the train, all hope had been lost for an isolated journey to the castle. Resigning to fate with a sigh, Jenny slid open the nearest door and asked the lone girl in the compartment, "Is it alright if I sit with you?"

The girl looked towards her with a sour frown, "Well, alright, but you better not invite any other Slytherins."

"Wasn't planning on it," Jenny muttered while shoving her trunk into storage.

Plopping down next to the girl, Jenny watched as her magnified, owl-like eyes blinked behind her glasses. "Well, are you going to introduce yourself?" The girl barked at Jenny.

Flustered Jenny nodded, "I'm Jenny Endall. You can call me Jenny if you'd like."

"Oh, I've heard of you. I'm Myrtle Warren," the girl promptly reopened the book she had been reading before Jenny had interrupted her.

"All good things, I hope," she joked in reply, but the passive hum she got in response made her doubt that. Realizing it was going to be a dreadfully dull train ride if she didn't lighten the mood, she asked, "What year are you in?"

The girl scoffed, "We're in the same year, Endall. Have you really not noticed me for four years?"

Jenny frowned at the use of her surname. "I've noticed you," she quickly remedied, "but I wasn't sure if we were in the same year."

"We've had classes together," Myrtle said, obviously unimpressed.

"Right," she cringed at her own forgetfulness. "Oh, I see you're reading Goshawk's Guide to Herbology, it's very informative. Was there any plant in particular that you were looking for?"

This caught Myrtle's attention, "Well actually I was looking for one thing, in particular, there was an herb that helps with astrology, like foreseeing—"

"I know what astrology is."

"Okay, jeez," Myrtle sniffed, "like I said, it helps, and I need it."

"Why do you need it?" Jenny asked.

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" She snapped the book shut angrily and crossed her arms.

"Okay, okay," quickly Jenny tried to soothe the girl, not wanting to have to search for a new compartment. "I was only wondering. Anyway the herb you're looking for it either mallowsweet or sage."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then reopened the book, skimming through the pages before stopping, scanning over the words. Looking up from the book, she smiled and said, "You're right! Thanks."

Jenny leaned slightly towards Myrtle, stealing a look at the open page to see she had looked up mallowsweet to verify Jenny's statement. She rolled her eyes, "Don't mention it."

They fell into a comfortable silence, Jenny and Myrtle both reading quietly, content on waiting out the train ride. They could have continued the whole journey like this until suddenly, Myrtle spoke, "Why are you even here?" Causing Jenny to look up from her own book.

"At Hogwarts?"

"No," Myrtle scoffed. "Why aren't you hanging around Riddle and those guys?"

"I'm not always around them."

"Yes, you are."

Jenny frowned, "No, I'm not, but if you must know, I thought it was time I went out on my own, made some friends that are girls."

" _You_ want to be _my friend_?"

"Well, you don't have to sound so surprised. It looks like you could use one."

This did not bode well. With a dramatic sniffle, Myrtle wailed, "You think I don't have any friends?"

Jenny winced, "No, nothing like that." She paused, hoping it would calm the girl, but the severity of the sniffling didn't let up. "That came out wrong, sorry. I was only saying that I could use a friend and I hope that you could use one too."

With a final dramatic huff, the crocodile tears vanished, "So you mean that you're dreadfully lonely and would like company?"

For a half-second, Jenny's brows drew together in irritation, but she quickly schooled her expression and said, "Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

Dinner in the Great Hall was chilled in uncomfortable silence. She couldn't sit with Myrtle at the Ravenclaw table on the first day, so instead, she found herself seated at her usual spot on Tom's right. Jenny uncomfortably shifted in her seat, trying to act as though she didn't notice Tom's pointed silence.

She had buttered her roll twice before Nott spoke up, "Where did you sit for the rest of the train ride?"

She grimaced at his attempt to slice the tension. "I don't think that's important."

"Oh, I know." Avery smirked arrogantly, "You went to sit with a boy, didn't you?"

Rosier piped up now, playing off Avery's comment, "I bet you were too distracted to even notice the trolley go by." He wiggled his eyebrows in a way Jenny would have found comedic in any other setting.

"No," Jenny sighed, not wanting their imaginations to run amok, she confessed, "I sat with Myrtle Warren."

Lestrange spoke now, placing his fork on his plate and looking to Jenny with a stern expression, "Warren? The Ravenclaw? She's a mudblood, you know."

"No, actually, I didn't know that," she answered quietly.

"Now, you do. It's best to avoid their type," Lestrange said.

"I don't think I will," Jenny sniffed stubbornly.

Tom finally spoke, his voice was strained with suppressed anger, "You know that mudbloods are a danger to wizards. There's a whole war from muggles trying to kill other muggles, just you wait until a loose-lipped mudblood clues them in on us. You thought muggles were bad to each other?" He let out a humorless laugh, "Just you wait."

"You don't have any proof that's the case!" Jenny hissed.

His face darkened with suppressed rage, " _Please_. When will you stop being such a naïve little girl?"

"What's wrong, Tommy? Don't want everyone else to see your facade of a perfect gentleman breaking down?" She sneered, matching his anger.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said stiffly but in a calm, collected voice, running a hand through his slicked-back hair.

The tension was gone suddenly, like a rubber band that had been stretched so far it finally broke from the pressure. "Of course you don't," Jenny mumbled into her tea.

Sensing their conversation had come to a close the group carefully changed the topics, Tom and Jenny opting to listen as they bumped elbows while eating.

* * *

 **AN:** Aye look at that! Jenny made a new friend! Hopefully their friendship will only blossom with old age…

This chapter and at least a portion (if not all) of the next chapter will be a lot of set up for plot/payoff in future chapters so bare with me


	17. Chapter 17

_It was a fair question, although the problem with fair questions is that they are asked about an unfair world._

 _\- Joseph Fink, Welcome to Night Vale -_

* * *

"Myrtle, I know the assignment is—" Jenny ducked as another ball of paper arched across the room, "frustrating, but can you not crush the paper?"

"Why would I do that?" Myrtle asked in a tone that was floating between anger and sulking.

"I could fold them instead," Jenny explained patiently. "I'm getting quite good at making paper birds." She held a paper crane in the palm of her hand, to illustrate the point.

Myrtle's eyes moved slowly from her parchment, landing on the crane then flitting to Jenny. Pursing her lips, she finally agreed, "Well, alright, you really could use the practice."

Lowering her palm, Jenny frowned and responded flatly, "Thanks."

The next discarded paper fluttered to the floor, landing at the base of Myrtle's chair. Jenny greedily grabbed it; the words were smeared and flowing into each other, reflecting the rushed expression on Myrtle's face. She folded the paper in on itself, and after a few steps, she realized it was all wrong. It resembled one of Myrtle's crumpled balls, although appearing a little more organized.

Jenny looked up to Myrtle from her spot on the floor, "Can we get dinner yet?"

"It's nearly finished," she insisted, despite having discarded her most recent attempt not even five minutes ago.

"If we keep spending this much time in an empty classroom together, people are going to start to think we're snogging," Jenny grumbled, ripping up one of the crumpled paper balls into small pieces.

"Why must you say such dreadful things?" Myrtle sniffed halfheartedly. "Besides, no one would think that, considering you dated Riddle."

With a shocked laugh, Jenny said, "We never dated! We're barely even friends anymore."

"Would've had me, and half the school, fooled. Why did you even hang around him if you didn't like him? Not that I understand why you didn't like him, he's very handsome and—"

"Okay," Jenny cut Myrtle off, "eew."

"There's nothing gross about that—"

"Yes, there is, he's basically my brother."

"You're related? Why are you an Endall and he's a Riddle?"

"No, it's— it's complicated. Just— can you contain your crush?"

Myrtle pouted for a second. Her homework laid forgotten on the table, which was probably for the best. She was very generous with her ink, which often led to her assignments being blurred and hardly legible. "I don't have a crush. It's merely an observation."

"Then contain your observations," she requested with an eye roll.

"It's perfectly normal," Myrtle insisted, "he's not _dreamy_ , but he's not hard on the eyes."

"I can't believe I'm even having this conversation."

"You're barely. You know you really should try to converse more, maybe you wouldn't be so lonesome."

"What did I say about crumpling paper?"

Myrtle stopped with a half balled parchment in her hand, "It really takes away the satisfaction of getting rid of it."

"I'm going to dinner," Jenny announced with a small head shake.

"Wait," Myrtle called as she gathered her books. "Jenny! Seriously, wait for me!"

Jenny continued, knowing the owl-eyed girl would catch up. The heavy footfalls that tracked behind her rang through the halls as proof. When Myrtle finally did fall into step beside her, Jenny noted, "I suppose you'll need to finish your assignment after dinner then?"

Myrtle merely nodded in agreement, her mouth seemed to be focused on not popping open at the sight of a Hufflepuff boy seated at his house table. Jenny and Myrtle took a seat at the Ravenclaw table, the latter of the girls positioned herself tactically to stare at the Hufflepuff table. They filled their plates in silence, save for the scratch of silverware on porcelain.

When the silence was broken, it was by a girlish, helpless sigh, "Isn't he something?"

"I don't know," Jenny said thoughtfully, "I personally think the Fat Friar's been letting himself go."

"Oh, must you do that?" Myrtle snapped in annoyance and gouged a pea for good measure. "You know who I'm talking about."

"I guess Walters is an okay bloke."

" _Walkers_ ," she corrected pointedly.

"What did I say?"

"You know what you're doing, you were this way with Davies."

"I didn't mind your infatuation with Davies, it was Moore I didn't like," Jenny lied, testing to see if Myrtle would catch the bluff.

The girl's face went red behind her glasses, "It wasn't an _infatuation_."

"Really, Myrtle, you fall in love so often, I can't imagine how you can keep them straight."

"You wouldn't get it," she sniffed haughtily. "You've never been in _love_ ," she said the word with a sticky sweetness that made Jenny feel ill. "I'm really starting to wonder if being heartless is a requirement for Slytherins."

"I don't think it's a requirement, but it definitely doesn't hurt to add it on the resume," Jenny quipped dryly, as her eyes floated over to Tom. He was seated among the usual group, as well as a few younger Slytherins. She couldn't imagine why, as he had always been repulsed by their brown-nosing attitudes. She brushed her curiosity away, marking it up to the old adage, 'birds of a feather flock together'.

"What's going on with you two?" Myrtle pressed, noticing where she had been looking.

"It's nothing, really," Jenny said, looking down at the hill of mashed potatoes on her plate.

"He's looking at you," she said coyly.

Her knee jerk reaction was to look back up at Tom. A blush crawled into her cheeks upon seeing he was preoccupied with a conversation and hadn't been paying her any mind. She scowled as a mocking titter erupted from Myrtle. "Yeah, real funny."

"Obviously something is going on," Myrtle insisted. "If you don't tell me yourself, I'll have to imagine up a reason." Jenny remained silent, praying the girl would follow through with the threat and stop her pestering. "Or, I could just ask Riddle."

Jenny's eyes widened as Myrtle twitched in her seat, getting ready to stand. "Don't!"

"Are you going to share?"

"I don't see what choice I have." Myrtle smiled wickedly, and Jenny sighed confessing, "We got into a fight over the summer."

"He didn't like you back?"

" _What_? No. Myrtle— _Merlin_ ," she scoffed. "As I was saying, he asked me a question- one he should have known he wouldn't like the answer to- and got mad."

"That's all?"

"Well, kind of. I tried to apologize—" she glanced to Myrtle, and upon seeing a doubtful look, she insisted, "Truly! I did! But he kept telling me I didn't mean it and that he knew that I meant what I said."

"Did you?"

"That's not the point!"

"Slytherins are so dysfunctional," Myrtle mumbled under her breath. "So," she began conspiringly, "what was the question that caused this?"

"I'm not telling you," she said firmly. "I didn't even want to answer the question, but it was like my tongue was possessed."

"Tongues don't just act on their own accord," was said back in a tone that conveyed heavy suspicion, much to Jenny's chagrin.

"Mine did!" She insisted desperately. "You're starting to sound like Tom."

"Don't develop and infatuation on me too," Myrtle warned her.

"I never had an infatuation with Tom. You're imagining something that isn't there."

"Whatever makes you feel better."

Two weeks later, the argument was rehashed over a cup of tea leaves. Myrtle had insisted that they try to do a reading, she was confident the leaves would tell them she and Walkers would end up together. Jenny was humoring her, mostly because she had nothing better to do. Christmas was quickly approaching, and the grounds were covered in snow, leaving the girls trapped inside or forced to bear the brunt of the harsh winter weather.

The tea leaves speckled Jenny's cup in a half crescent. She couldn't piece together any shapes or symbols. Glancing back and forth from the cup to the text Myrtle had laid open in front of them Jenny heaved a sigh, "This is bloody stupid. Why would leaves know my future?"

"You just aren't reading it right," was Myrtle's condescending remark.

"I'm not reading it at all because there's nothing to read! It's just mushy clumps of leaves."

"Give it to me."

"Oh yeah, let's hear it then. What's my 'future'?"

"Look right here, that's Aries or the ram, it means strong, fire like emotion."

"Okay, but what's this lump of leaves then?"

Myrtle was quiet for a moment then turned to consult the book. After some deliberation, she answered, "That's either a chain, like having responsibility for a series of events, or that's a knot, which means stress."

Jenny stared down at the lackluster future, "Sounds pleasant. What does that mean? Which one is it a knot or chain?"

"I'm not a Divination professor! I don't know everything about everything!" Her indignation had her voice reaching unpleasantly high decibels.

"Alright, fine," she shoved her cup on the table, growing bored of the cheap gimmick. "What does your future look like?"

"Okay, so I think Walkers really is, The One," She gushed, as Jenny rolled her eyes. "See this, that's the wheel, it means inevitable change! And see over here, an angel, it means good news, like love!"

Jenny squinted down at the lump, "I think it looks like a bat," ignoring Myrtle's protest she looked to the book and read the passage for bat, "'Leaves taking the form of a bat implies that an undertaking or effort will lead to a fruitless and unsuccessful outcome.'"

"Well you don't even know that much about Divination or Astrology, how could you know."

"The tea leaves do, and they said it's fruitless," she said, smiling as she watched a pout form.

"No, they say I'm destined for Walkers, just like how you're all fired up about your crush on Riddle," Myrtle insisted.

"I don't have a crush on him! Are you really that thick?"

"Maybe I have more insight because I look to the future."

She scoffed, "The future is just as much a mystery to you as it is for anyone else." A crackle of anger fluttered between the two girls as they eyed one another.

The Ravenclaw and Slytherin stared at each other for a moment, both measuring the others resolve. The wiser of the two finally cleared her throat, realizing that they weren't going to find a middle ground on this issue. "Speaking of the future, are you going to be going home for Christmas?"

"No," Jenny answered, causing Myrtle to frown in return.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to." One benefit of befriending a mudblood was her lack of knowledge surrounding pureblood families. She never looked to Jenny with pitying eyes when the topic of family or parents were brought up. "Are you going home?"

"Of course!" Myrtle chirped, "I've been trying to convince my parents to get me a cat."

"A witch and her familiar. How endearingly cliche." The sarcastic comment was ignored.

"Mother says I have to wait until I'm 16, but that won't be until sixth year! I'm going to try to convince them it would be a good Christmas present for _this_ year."

"You'll be 16 by the end of fifth year," Jenny reminded her.

"Yeah, but I'll have to be there to pick out the cat, which will be the summer before sixth year."

"Right," Jenny deadpanned. "I'm going to grab some lunch, did you want to join me? Surprisingly a cup of tea didn't fill me up." She agreed after a moment, and the two took their leave. Myrtle began talking animatedly about Walkers and this theory she had about his hidden affections.

The day poured out, like lacquer across a sanded desk, and the week followed in the same fashion. Christmas came crawling out of storage in the shape of bushy, large trees in the great hall and Myrtle returned home for the holidays.

Jenny woke in a sweat, lighting her wand she illuminating the empty beds and the clock on her bedside table. She frowned at the clicking arms on the clock face, they splayed wide apart reading 2:53. With a small defeated groan, she flopped back in the covers, her wand flinging dramatically onto the table. There was a sound of wood rolling across wood, then a small clatter as her wand tumbled behind the piece of furniture. A restless quiet filled the room. No soft snoring of her roommates, who have all returned home, like Myrtle. No lulling putter of soldier's airplanes gliding through the sky. No moaning windows as the wind pushed against them, Jenny mourned this for a moment, resenting living below the lake.

She tossed in her bed, yanking the covers with enough strength she could hear the fabric straining and threatening to tear. Shaking the blanket off entirely, she lay arms and legs spread across the bed, reminding herself of a field trip Mrs. Cole had taken the children on. The zoo was filled with exotic animals she had only been described before, things like monkeys and parrots. Some of the children's favorites were small frogs that were colored bright blues and reds and a long, angry alligator. At the end of the trip, they had to walk through a small gift shop to get to the exit. She gravitated to the aquarium perched on the counter next to the cashier. There were groups of rainbow fish swirling in the water, but she only had eyes for the starfish spreading across the glass, barely noticing the fish or the girl as she pressed her finger gently to the glass. She was jealous of the starfish, it spent all its days clinging to the glass, spreading itself wide, filling as much space as it liked.

Later she confided in Tom her envy of the starfish, and he scoffed, "How could you think that starfish was free? It was in a small tank, owned and controlled by the zoo, and watched by anyone passing through."

"It didn't seem to notice or care," she had tried arguing meekly.

"I'm sure it noticed," was all he bit back.

She sighed at the memory. It had been before finding out about Hogwarts, before finding out about magic, before things got so messy.

Rolling onto her stomach, she pressed her face into the pillow, wondering for a moment if she could just induce sleep from lack of oxygen. The clock clicked angrily in her ear, seemingly growing louder the longer she ignored it. The click, clack of the gears inching time forward pounded on her eardrums until she was sure they would burst if she didn't do something. She pulled her head away from the pillow, gasping in the fresh air, and stood, fumbling for a moment in the dark as she retrieved her wand from behind the end table. Once the familiar piece of wood was pressed into her palm again, she illuminated the tip with a swish. The room around her wand glowed softly in the light. With an angry swipe of her hand, she snatched up the offending clock. Crossing the room she approached one of her roommate's bed, the sheets were tucked taut against the mattress, and Jenny admired the craftsmanship for a moment before roughly tugging down the bedding and shoving her clock behind the girl's pillow. Silently vowing to herself she'd remake her roommate's bed before she returned to Hogwarts. Jenny crossed the room once more plopping victoriously on her bed. It was a short-lived victory punctuated by Jenny shoving her face into the pillow and growling as the muffled clicks echoed through the room.

She stood from the bed again, ignoring the bulging, ticking pillow across the room as she sat down at the desk, lighting a candle with her wand and deciding she would write a letter. Producing a quill and a piece of parchment she started with, ' _Dear Myrtle,'_. Frowning, she drew a line through the ink, and it vanished, a creation of Myrtle's that she had been quite proud of. She started again, trying for a less formal approach, ' _Hi Myrtle, how was ice skating?'_ With an irritated sigh, she drew a line through the words following Myrtle's name. _'My holiday's been very exciting too. Have you had any more run-ins with your neighbor?'_ The line came through her words almost as soon as she dotted her question mark, and the paper ripped from the pressure of her quill. She tore the paper into small pieces that sprinkled around the base of her chair. She hadn't ever had someone to write letters to before, and out of a moment of desperation she picked up the letter from Myrtle she had received two days ago, she reread it, desperately searching for inspiration.

 _Happy Christmas Jenny,_

 _I'm not sure when this will reach you so I figured I'd say it now, in case this finds you during or after Christmas. I was able to borrow an owl from my neighbor. She's a very nosy woman. Apparently, she was watching me trying to read the stars last night, she came over when she saw me light the mallowsweet and sage we had bought at Hogsmeade. She came to ask me if my parents knew I was burning things and even tried to take away my matches! Anyway, she spotted my Divination textbook and asked where I got it. I didn't know what to do! I thought for sure that I just exposed a muggle to magic._

Jenny winced reading that line, Tom would have a field day if he ever knew this.

 _She and I started talking, and she asked me if I was going to Hogwarts, turns out she used to go to our school as a kid! She was a Gryffindor. Anyway, she let me borrow her owl so I could write to you!_

 _Other than that my holidays been pretty much like any other holiday. I wonder what Walkers been doing. I've been thinking about it, and I think you and Tom, and me and Walkers, should have a joint wedding. It would save money and then we could have a large wedding with everyone families combined like that! I know you don't think you and Tom will ever happen, but I think you're both blowing this whole fight out of proportion. You should have had more control over your words, it's not like you were under the imperius or given a truth potion. You just need to give him a real apology, so you can both move on._

 _Anyway, I got to go, my mum wants to have us meet my cousins for ice skating._

 _Write back soon!_

 _Myrtle_

Jenny sighed at the letter, it was like the words had been scrawled across the inside of her eyelids, 'it's _not like you were under the imperius or given a truth potion'_. She shoved the letter into her desk drawer and slammed it shut. Blowing out the candle, she vanquished the silly idea of writing a letter and laid back in bed. The muffled clicking of the clock acted as a mechanical lullaby.

 **Click**

 **Clack**

She closed her eyes

 **Click**

 **Clack**

 _it's not like you were under the imperius or given a truth potion_

 **Click**

 **Clack**

 _Drifting between sleep and awake her ears tuned into the sound of Tom's trunk hinges swinging open._

 **Click**

 **Clack**

She had thought it had been merely a dream. And it had been.

 **Click**

 **Clack**

Hadn't it?

 **Click**

 _A cork was placed on top of one of the parchments._

 **Clack**

 _The companion to the cork was a nearly empty potions bottle, holding only a small amount of clear liquid on the bottom._

 **Click**

 **Clack**

No, she chided herself, she was just being silly. Tom doesn't even have a truth potion.

 **Click**

But, maybe she wasn't.

 **Clack**

A memory from over a year ago resurfaced. She could hear their conversation ringing in her ears.

 _"You're making veritaserum."_

 _"I am."_

 _"May I ask what you would need truth serum for?"_

 _"You may. Although you'll be disappointed with my answer. You never know when you need it. It's a useful tool."_

 **Click**

 **Clack**

Tom had given her tea before questioning her, a kind gesture by a concerned friend, or was it something more malicious?

 **Cli-**

Jenny shot forward out of bed, stormed across the room, and liberated the clock from its hiding spot beneath the pillow. The freedom was short-lived as she chucked the clock against the wall, gears and springs spilled from the mangled device, leaving her in pure silence. She stood in the dark room, with the cold dungeon air pricking her arms, soaking in the quiet. Her lungs felt lighter, the room suddenly was larger without the mechanical sounds flooding the space around her.

The sound of knuckles rapping on the door jolted her from the standstill in front of the clock. Gathering her wits, she moved to the door, but it clearly wasn't fast enough for the person on the other side's liking. "Is everything okay in there?"

Jenny swung the door open quickly, urging herself not to glare at the visitor. "Everything's fine. What do you need at this hour?"

"It's just, I thought I heard something." The girl's prefect badge caught the stray glint of light as she leaned forward, trying to steal a look into the room, past Jenny.

Pressing the door into an even smaller crack, she smiled stiffly at the prefect. "Everything's _fine._ I was trying to sleep, it's three in the morning!" She didn't want the prefect to see the broken clock. It was her own possession, but she didn't want to open the line of dialogue. She could imagine it now, 'Why did you break your clock?' 'I don't know.' 'You don't know?' They'd have her shipped off to St Mungo's before daybreak.

"Alright." Her lips were pressed in a thin line as she turned and walked away.

Shutting the door, Jenny pressed her palms to her eyes, causing a burst of color to dance across her eyelids from the pressure. Sitting weakly on the bed, she sighed at the empty room.

The next morning Jenny stumble to Professor Slughorn's door, she fidgeted squarely in front of the smoky black wood. Willing herself, she raised her fist, held it an inch away from the wood, then lowered it again. The grain swirled in a mind-numbing spell that held her gaze. She wanted answers, but the patterns playing out in front of her were an easy enough excuse to be held captive in that moment. The door pitched back, away from Jenny and she jumped, flustered as Slughorn nearly walk straight into her.

"Oh! My apologies, Endall. I didn't see you there. Happy Christmas!"

"Wha—" she started, but after doing a quick mental stock of how many days had passed, she replied with an equally cheerful, "Happy Christmas."

"Were you heading to the Great Hall? Christmas morning always has the best breakfast."

"Sure, Professor, I actually had a questi—"

They both fell into step next to each other, and maybe she had been speaking too softly because Slughorn began talking over her about a special guest he was trying to have visit for dinner with the Slugclub. Eventually, he wondered aloud, "Where's Riddle this morning? I missed him at the last Slugclub meeting."

Jenny frowned, partly because she hadn't attended many meetings this year, which had elicited no comment from the professor, and partly because Tom usually didn't miss any meetings. "I'm not sure," she mumbled to her shoes.

If Slughorn noticed he didn't say anything as they step into the Great Hall. He immediately broke away from Jenny to loudly exchanging pleasantries with Professor Kettleburn. Jenny sighed with a mixture of defeat and annoyance. Realizing her professor would be no help, she turned to retreat from the Great Hall, but not before stealing a glance towards Tom, who was seated next to Lestrange at the Slytherin table. They appeared to be having an intense discussion, although she couldn't tell if it was an argument or if they were just excited. As though sensing someone watching him, Tom's eyes snapped up to meet her gaze. Frozen like a water droplet mid freefall she stared back. After a few moments, he blinked, then turned to reply to something Lestrange had said. The spell was broken, and she turned, quickly removing herself from the room as her body involuntarily shuddered, like a single ripple on a lake's surface before a rainstorm.

* * *

 **AN:** I wrote this chapter a little different, what do y'all think?


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

* * *

 _Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance._

 _\- Oscar Wilde -_

* * *

Jenny spent her remaining holiday in the library or under dimmed candlelight in her bedroom reading and rereading all the potions books she could get her hands on. She felt like a fire; building up to consume more, consuming until everything's gone, then waiting and repeating the cycle. She hated it.

When Myrtle returned to Hogwarts, tragedy was thick in the air. "Walkers got the _worst_ haircut I've ever _seen!_ "

"I think it fits him," Jenny mumbled absently into a potions book she'd borrowed from the library.

"Would you be serious?!" The book was snatched from her hands. "I'm having a real crisis! Can't your," Myrtle paused to skim the page that it had been opened to, "'vitamix' research wait? I mean _really,_ I'm having second thoughts about being Mrs. Myrtle Walkers and you're worried about your vitamin deficiency?!"

Jenny ripped the book out of her grip, "Actually, I'm researching the potion above it, veritaserum."

"Does it matter?"

The question, although figurative, was given a response, "Well, I think—"

"Endall, must you always be the center of attention?!" Myrtle's question was underlined by her stomps and followed by a slammed door.

Jenny sighed into the centerfold of the textbook. Her blasé comments had been to get under Myrtle's skin intentionally. It was a nasty habit she'd picked up at the orphanage, typically only using it when she wanted the bedroom to herself or if she just wanted someone to be in a worse mood than her. Although much to her discontent, it did nothing to ease the anxious feeling bubbling in her stomach, she had only added a mixture of self-pity and guilt to her ever-growing unrest. The book pages beckoned to her to remain in the isolated classroom and ignore the urge to apologize to Myrtle. After a moment of watching the door, she threw herself back into her reading, now free from Walkers-related distractions.

 _'Veritaserum is_ _a colorless, tasteless potion_ ,' or poison, Jenny added in her thoughts bitterly. She'd read what felt like hundreds of variations of this sentence over the past few days. How could she know she wasn't fabricating this out of guilt if she had no solid proof? No flavor, no side effects, no trace. _'A person under the influence of this potion will spill out his innermost secrets with little prejudice_ ,' ever since she read the phrase it reverberated through her mind. Had her secrets spilled out?

When she finally decided to confront Tom, it was fueled by anger and frustration, rather than evidence. She found herself knocking at his bedroom door, but as soon as she felt the tingle of her knuckles on wood, she started hoping no one was on the other side. Unfortunately, the door inched open revealing, half of a face she'd never met before.

"Who are you?" The question tumbled from her mouth with little thought.

The portion of the face she could see was a young, blonde boy. His skin was spotted with acne and dusted in freckles, the one ear on display was poking out and forward, reminding Jenny of an elephant. "Who are you?" The boy echoed back, accusingly.

"You don't even live here," she pressed her palm to the door, attempting to push past him. The boy, although small in stature, held his own against her, the door not moving an inch.

"So?"

" _So_ , let me in."

"No."

There was a muffled question from behind him, and there was no denying that it was Tom's voice. "Who's at the door?"

"She won't say," the large-eared boy answered.

There was shuffling within the room, and the boy got pushed aside, replacing him was Tom. All words Jenny had loaded up to fire were lost. He held a neutral, condescending look on his face that she wanted to smack off. "What do you need?"

"I want to talk to you," she prompted.

"You are," he pressed the door forward, attempting to close it. Jenny's palm pressed back against the cool wood forcing it to remain open. He stopped the movement when he felt resistance and stared at her expectantly.

"I want to talk to you _alone_."

"I'm busy," he tried to press the door shut again. This time she pushed against it with enough force to open it wider than before, allowing her a glance into the bedroom. There were almost a dozen boys scattered through the room, all looking towards the door, as though she interrupted them.

"I see," she said quietly as she tried to think of a reason Tom would have so many people gathered.

"I'll send for you once we're done," was his only clipped explanation.

"Fine," she gritted out.

While fuming in the common room, she was shaken from her stewing, angry thoughts by a familiar name, "Did you see Warren's face, though? She was all," there was a pause followed by a spattering of laughter. "Really, she's just so pathetic— even for a mudblood."

Jenny glanced towards the speaker and recognized the girl to be Olive Hornby. She and Myrtle had a love-hate relationship that never swung into the love part. Jenny sighed, wondering if there was enough time to track down Myrtle before Tom was finished with whatever was keeping him so preoccupied. Glancing between the warm fireplace and the door that leads to the cold dungeon halls, silently she started convincing herself that it would be easy to pretend she didn't hear Hornby's conversation.

"I can't believe she actually started crying."

"Shows that mudblood for using the Slytherin bathroom."

Jenny clenched her fists in annoyance, she had no justification for herself now that she knew where Myrtle was. Standing from the couch, she crossed the common room and opened the door. The chilling air from the dungeons made her hesitate for a moment, considering if she could simply live with the guilt. After some debate, she began internally reprimanding herself for not being a better friend as she stepped out into the hall and towards the dungeon bathrooms.

She heard Myrtle's dramatic sniffling before she opened the door. Myrtle had her back to the entrance, looking into one of the stalls while her shoulders heaved up and down with each thick sniffle.

"What happened this time?" Jenny asked, causing the owl-eyed girl to turn, her red nose nearly glowing under her glasses.

"Hornby and her _gang_ went after me for being in the 'Slytherin' bathroom."

"Why were you in the dungeons?" Jenny wondered.

"I was looking for you. I went back to the classroom, and you weren't there, I thought maybe I could catch you before you got to the common room. Then when I couldn't find you, I went to use the bathroom, and well," she gestured back to the stall.

Jenny took a few steps forward to look in and saw Myrtle's textbooks had been shoved into the toilet. "Wow, Hornby absolutely loathes you."

"You don't have to sound so cheerful about it. I've done nothing to deserve it," Myrtle pointed out bitterly.

Jenny frowned thinking back to Lestrange warning her away from Myrtle's friendship and Tom's general disdain for mudbloods and muggles. "I don't think a reason is truly needed to hate you."

"Are you saying people just hate me for no reason?!" Myrtle's voice was getting painfully high, Jenny cringed as it grated on her ears.

"No, I'm saying that no one needs a reason to hate anyone. Sometimes people just hate other people," a shrug punctuated her words.

"That's terrible." There was a drawn-out silence as Myrtle fished out her books and mumbled spells to dry them.

"That's people."

They both remained silent, only breaking it once when Myrtle said quietly, as they passed the Slytherin common room, that she was going to go back to her common room. Jenny was grateful she didn't have to formulate her own excuse for them to return to their own respective houses for the night. She had never felt required to comfort someone before, and frankly, she didn't like it one bit. The words had felt sticky and odd, floating somewhere between disingenuous and cold. She pondered if this was a skill she'd develop with time, or was this a significant step she'd missed at some point growing up. Would that skill itch and ache like a phantom limb in need of use even when she lacked the muscles to flex it?

"Endall?"

She looked up from the fire she'd been staring at, to see an uncertain Rosier standing some distance from her. He looked lost without standing shoulder to shoulder with Avery. "Is he finally ready for me?"

"Uh, not yet." He stepped towards her, slow and deliberate as though he was trying to catch a wild animal. Jenny had seen that face on children at the orphanage. One of the older teenagers told them that birds couldn't fly if it got pepper on its tail. For an entire week after breakfast, the children too young to catch the lie would steal the pepper shaker off the table and slowly sneak up to birds, only to break into a sprint with pepper puffing around them in clouds as they tried to stop the birds from flying away. Mrs. Cole put this to an end when she discovered what was going on, punishing everyone who'd been old enough to understand it was a lie and do nothing to save the pepper from being wasted, whist shrilly reminding them there's a war going on. She wondered absently what made him think she was a bird about to take flight.

"If he's not done, why are you here?"

"I told them I needed to use the loo," he was closer to her now, his brows scrunched in conflict, reminding her of a child trying to sneak up.

"You lied?"

"No, I didn't, but I saw you and I—" he stopped himself.

"What?"

"Why did you change your mind about the Knights?"

Her brain stuttered and wheezed as it tried to figure out what he meant. Carefully prodding, she asked, "What makes you think I've changed my mind?"

"Riddle said that you didn't want to hang around us anymore because of it. Now you're trying to come into meetings, forgive me for being presumptuous, but why else would you be?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she started in on him but stopped when she saw an assortment of boys trickle from the hallway leading to the dormitories. One of the last out was the same big-eared boy that had been rude to her.

He made a v-line straight for her, announcing, "He'll see you now," in an arrogant, self-assuming tone.

"Right. We'll continue this later, Rosier."

"Right." His voice cracked a little, and he shifted uncomfortably as he cleared his throat.

The big-eared boy's eyes narrowed on Rosier, scoldingly. There wasn't enough room in the common room for both Jenny and the growing tension between Rosier and the boy to fit comfortably, so after a hasty nod, she fled to her own inevitable discomfort.

Tom's bedroom door had been left open, displaying the room and all of its organized glory. The man of the hour was seated at his desk, jotting down notes on a parchment, sleeves rolled up to protect them from the ink. She tugged the door shut behind her, sealing them away from prying eyes. When it clicked shut, his attention was drawn away from his writing as his eyes landed on her.

"What do I owe the honor of your presence for?" His question was sneered through a quirked half-smile.

"No," her voice broke at the simple word. "You don't get to act like nothing happened."

"You mean your self-imposed exile?"

"'Self-impos—'" she repeated incredulously, "No, it wasn't! You were a twat! You wanted me to leave."

"I never sent you away," he reminded her patiently.

She sputtered for a moment, trying to find an argument against this, but was at a loss. Although Tom had been openly hostile, he didn't ever indicate she should leave. "It doesn't matter," she quickly backtracked, "that's not the reason I wanted to talk to you."

"Alright then, by all means, have a seat," he gestured towards his bed. The familiar territory made her stomach twist. She shook her head, no. She wouldn't let herself be lulled by old comforts.

"I'd prefer to stand," she voiced unnecessarily, her head shake already conveying her thoughts. "I have a question for you. Just one, then I'll leave." She knew she was lying, it wouldn't be this simple, but she could pretend, if not for his sake, then hers.

"Alright, let's hear it." He crossed his arms expectantly. It felt like this was the first time since Dumbledore arrived at Wool's that he was dedicating his full attention to her. Although she was sure that couldn't be the case, it made her heartache a little.

"Did you put Veritaserum in my tea over summer?" The words spilled out of her mouth like springs from a broken clock. As soon as the words hit her ears, she willed them to not reach Tom's. The answer, although she had no way to prove it, was too obvious, the truth would be too painful and hearing it, she feared, could be too much for her to stomach.

"Why would you think that?"

She frowned. She'd come this far hadn't she? Couldn't he just give her answers without a fight? "Let's not do this."

"Do what?"

"Where you pretend that I'm some silly woman that can't think for herself."

"You want the truth?"

Her voice was small, "Please." She wasn't sure if it was a plea for him to lie or a plea for the truth. At this point, she wasn't sure what the difference was to Tom.

"Mrs. Cole was worried. There was talk that she was going to send a doctor to look at you. Who knows what could have happened if this muggle doctor somehow figured out you were magic. They could have taken you away from Wool's, away from magic, away from—"

There was a pause, and she filled in the blank for him in her thoughts, 'away from _him_.'

"—Anyway I wanted to get to the bottom of it before things got out of hand. You wouldn't hold a conversation with me, and I got desperate. Merlin— I was _worried_ and do you know what thanks I get for _my concern_?" He hissed.

She had sworn off crying over a year ago, but as her own emotions swelled that vow had once again been forgotten. It seemed like Tom would always be able to push her to tears.

He continued in the wake of her silence, "I get you, helplessly explaining how you don't think I ' _care_ ,' telling me I don't act in your best interests."

"I'm sorry," it came out in a pathetic whisper. Jenny wanted to cringe at her own desperation.

"You're _'sorry'?_ You come in here, accuse me of drugging you, for what? You think I'm some creep that drugs girls for the fun of it? I was bloody worried that some sick muggle at that orphanage had hurt you, and you act like I'm the bad guy!"

"At least you admit you drugged me." She wanted to yell, but the tears were so thick in her throat she was impressed it came out above a whisper this time.

"I'll do what I think is necessary to protect this." His arms moved in a wide, all encapsulating, arch, leaving her to question how broad or how specific the word 'this' was to him.

"Did you protect me?" The accusing tone wasn't lost on him.

"Yes. Until you stop behaving like a child, unfortunately, my interference is necessary."

"I'm not a _child_." This time she yelled successfully. Although she wasn't sure when, her tears had stopped, but her breathing was still quick and gasping, even in the absence of muffled sobs. "I don't need you."

That wasn't entirely true, but she had the fatal need to declare things in absolutes. She had this growing suspicion that no one took her seriously. It was like everyone looked at her like she was playing pretend in grown-up clothes, it made her want to check her shoes to make sure they hadn't grown into Mrs. Cole's oversized, scuffed loafers when she hadn't been paying attention. If her words bothered Tom, his face gave no indication, it was still that inscrutable, almost clinically calm, expression.

When he spoke, it was in a level, calculative tone, it was almost quiet, but she was sure that was just in comparison to her yell. "Why come here in the first place? You already knew the answer to your question. You interrupted my meeting and threw a temper tantrum in my room, was this all you needed? Have you been satisfied?"

"No," she said softly, suddenly feeling like the child Tom had been seeing her as all along.

This time his expression did warp. His shoulders droop forward with defeat, and he closed his eyes for a moment in annoyance, when they finally opened again, she could see rage spark in them. "No?"

"No, I'm not satisfied. I don't want us fighting anymore," it was a strange impasse they'd come to. She apologized to him twice now, and he didn't appear to be budging on the idea that he was justified. Maybe he _was_ justified, she considered, but the whole situation made her want to punch him or throw up.

"I'm not apologizing," he confirmed what she already suspected.

"That's okay."

They sat in silence for a moment, a clock next to Avery's bed clicked through the seconds they stared at each other, filling the dead air. Tom measured her resolve through slightly narrowed eyes, trying to figure out if she'd genuinely let it go this simply. One conversation closed a seven-month-long argument, it seemed almost too good to be true. Maybe it had been, but Jenny was happy to fall back into place next to him, and Tom was delighted to gain some higher ground for their following conversation.

"So," he started, "Myrtle Warren, huh?" The words plopped into the room, thick and ugly, like a sludgy pasta casserole onto a plate, the type Mrs. Cole would insist is delicious if you give it a chance.

"What about her?"

"You seemed to replace me easily with her." He sounded put out.

"No one could come close to replacing you," Jenny laughed at the thought. Sure Myrtle shared Tom's cleverness at times, but she was overwhelmingly emotional where he was almost emotionally withdrawn, or at least as close as he could be.

"Excellent. So you won't be hanging around that mudblood anymore?" Although it was worded like a question, his tone was firm.

"I won't be spending as much time with her since you and I are talking again, but I'm her friend, of course, I'll be hanging around her."

He frowned, apparently displeased with how far she'd slipped from under his thumb in only a few months. "You know what people are saying? It's not right, Jenny, your blood is better than this. People think you're a blood traitor."

"Does it matter?" She'd nearly exhausted her patience for this topic.

With a revolted tsk and a disapproving shake of the head, Tom let the discussion slide. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Alright," she brushed him off. "Anyway, I actually had a question about Defense Against the Dark Arts. The lessons have sort of been over my head lately, and Myrtle would tease me to no end if I asked her."

"Okay," he agreed, "but I need to check on a potion I have stewing in my office. Come, we can practice there."

She couldn't help but smile to herself, shocked that he'd still allow her to tag along to the disappearing office. In a teasing tone, she said, "You're not making more veritaserum, are you?"

Suppressing an amused smirk, he answered, "Nothing so dramatic, unfortunately."

They swept out of the boy's dormitory together. Jenny falling easily in step at Tom's elbow as they ventured through the castle.

* * *

 **AN:** Hey, so I think I might be taking a break. I've had a lot of trouble with motivating myself to do much, let alone writing. This chapter was tough to put into writing, and I wasn't very pleased with the outcome. That doesn't mean I'm quitting, I have nearly all of this fanfiction written, it's just the next few chapters that I have to write, but I just need some time to collect myself. **I'll** _ **try**_ **to post a new chapter at my normal update time, but** if it doesn't get completed on time, I'm not going to publish something half-finished or that I'm not proud of.


	19. Chapter 19

_So we grew together,_

 _Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,_

 _But yet an union in partition,_

 _Two lovely berries moulded on one stem._

 _\- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream -_

* * *

Winter had melted from a picturesque monochrome painting to a slushy grey, brown, and green soup. Dead leaves uncovered from underneath their protective layer of snow lay on the washed-out grass or melded into the softened soil, which was nearly mud. Jenny and Myrtle walked carefully, avoiding the puddles and patches of snow.

"You know, Tom would hate this," Jenny noted quietly to Myrtle, the forest shifted around them as the cold, dusk, wind swept between the trees.

"I'm surprised you escaped the dungeons without him stopping you."

"He has a 'meeting' going on. He gets stupid about those, barely notices the world."

"His Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring?"

Jenny spoke in a shallow whisper, feeling like her suspicions were too dear to risk even a lone owl hearing, "That's what he keeps telling me, but with how many boys he's 'tutoring' it seems like a lie. Professor Merry-Thought is an excellent instructor."

Myrtle shrugged, offering a simple, "She's getting old," as a dismissal, clearly preoccupied, staring up in between the treetops thoughtfully.

Myrtle was trying to spot the constellation called Algol. She'd given an explanation as to why, which Jenny had decided to zone out during, only to be scolded by Myrtle. The underlying reasoning and the quick recap given by Myrtle after that was, 'I need to get away from the castle, so it's darker and easier to see,' and 'You're a Slytherin so you should care about this because the constellation means devil's head and it was supposed to stand for Medusa, you know the lady with snakes for hair?' Which prompted Jenny to say that no, she didn't. This led Myrtle to go on a long tirade about mythology, which she had apparently been obsessed with as a child, it evidently evolved into a love for astronomy, astrology, and divination. Jenny didn't care, but somehow still found herself reluctantly following Myrtle through the Forbidden Forest, carrying a satchel full of dried black hellebore and mugwort, because 'We need it.' They also apparently needed the small diamond earring Myrtle had liberated from her mother's jewelry box over the holiday. This was all part of a grand plan Myrtle formulated from a book she'd been given about the occult that detailed the diamond, herbs, and constellation all played into, and assisted a 'magical ceremony.'

"Please keep in mind, that book was published by _muggles_ ," Jenny reminded Myrtle for the fifth time that evening.

"I thought we were talking about Tom," she quipped back, obviously tiring of Jenny's reminder.

"You seemed more distracted by your muggle scribblings," the words sounded like they were borrowed straight from Tom's mouth.

Myrtle twirled herself to face Jenny, her jacket flaring around her and fluttering dramatically with the movement, "It's not just 'muggle scribblings'!" With that, the girl spun on her heel again, turning her back to Jenny, who thought she heard a soft, "Not that it should matter anyway."

Before Jenny could figure out if she'd only imagined the last part, Myrtle stomped off into the forest. Jenny hesitated to wonder if Myrtle would come back, but after a minute it became apparent she was going to commit to her dramatic exit. "Shoot," Jenny breathed, a small puff of steam coming from her mouth, warming the fresh night air.

After a moment of hesitation and glancing around at the darkness filling in the spaces between the trees, she began quickly walking the direction Myrtle had taken. Pushing into the dense underbrush, she drew her wand, illuminating the tip, throwing out the 'no light that could interfere with the moonlight' rule, because Myrtle wasn't there to complain. The wand light, although it should have brought comfort, only heightened her unease. The darkness grew around her to compensate for the brightness, she knew it was only her eyes no longer being used to the low light, but it still made her feel claustrophobic. Distracted by wildly looking around, she plopped her foot into a thick, muddy puddle. Groaning and giving the foot a hearty shake, she began dreaming up the nasty hexes she'd shoot at Myrtle once she finally found her.

The anger that started growing in her belly popped like a frail bubble on a blade of grass when she heard the thick crackle of a branch breaking. Bile rose in her throat as she froze. That hadn't sounded like the quaint snaps Myrtle and Jenny had been making when the occasional twig found itself under their shoes. Jenny raised her wand higher, trying to grow the protective layer of light around her, blinking with wide eyes into the dark, willing herself to see what had made the sound and at the same time wishing she would never cross its path.

Feeling like she could spend the entire night waiting for something to happen, she decided to act. "Myrtle?" She hissed into the night, as though whatever snapped the branch wouldn't hear her if she spoke softly enough.

"Myrtle, I swear if you don't come over here—" Jenny's threat, although hollow, was never completed, because a Myrtle-sounding yelp came from her right. Not taking another moment to analyze if it was an alarmed 'something's eating me' yelp or a happy 'I found my stupid stars in the shape of a head' yelp, Jenny ran, not allowing her legs to seize in fear of the branch-crushing-something that lurked in the darkness.

Jenny ran so fixated in the direction she heard Myrtle that, when she found the girl, she quite literally stumbled upon her. Jenny toppled headfirst over her, legs getting stuck on Myrtle's balled-up form. Her hands came down to catch herself, sinking deep into the ground and finding the silky mud beneath it. Crying out in disgust, she pulled herself to a seated upright position and looked upon the dirty state of her once clean uniform and coat. "Oh Myrtle, what on earth are you doing? Were you trying to break my neck?!"

Myrtle only whimpered in response.

Jenny rolled her eyes, figuring this was some grand show to emphasize how damaged Myrtles feelings were after the 'muggle scribblings' comment. Fumbling around on the cool earth with her already dirty hands, Jenny searched for her wand that she'd drop in the urgency to not severely damaged her skull. The first thing that her fingertips brushed against, that wasn't a twig, snow, or leaf, was a cloth satchel. Her fingers closed around it spitefully, knowing it was the herbs. Tossing it over her shoulder in a high arch, she proudly smirked to herself, happy to have a small amount of revenge for being dragged out into the mud. The satisfying rustle of it landing it the brush never came though, instead there was a muted thud, as it slapped a mass and landed on the ground, what sounded like only several feet back.

At that moment, the forest fell silent, or at least the sound of Jenny's heartbeat pounding in her ears made it so. She blurted the first thing that came to mind, "Accio wand!" Surprising herself in two ways; firstly, she expected it to come out in a panic wail, rather than smooth and calm, and secondly, the wand zipped out from underneath the inky blackness of the night and into her palm, warming her hand with its power. She'd attempted wandless magic before, but lacked any impressive results, and never had she tried to use Accio wandlessly. Although Jenny was flummoxed, she shoved the moment to the back of her mind, quickly drawing herself to her feet and illuminating her wand.

A large Hippogriff stood several paces away from the girls, Jenny shuddered realizing how close the creature had been when she'd run past it in darkness moments ago. Her eyes traveled over the tip of a sharp hooked beak to the pointed talons at the end of front legs, where the herb-filled pouch lay pathetically in front of the creature. She brought her eyes back to beast's, feeling her brain sink into the pages of books she'd buried herself in after her last humiliating trip in the Forbidden Forest. Mechanically, while maintaining eye contact, she lowered herself into a deep bow, feeling a pull on the edge of her skirt as it dipped into a puddle and soaked in the murky water.

The Hippogriff's eyes narrowed as it took a step towards them. Jenny's hand instinctively tightened around her wand as she wildly wondered if this could be the same Hippogriff she'd encountered with Tom. Her brain split into two trains of thoughts, the first began silently pleading that it wouldn't hold a grudge if it were the same creature, the second started going over any defense spells that could incapacitate the beast long enough for her to gather Myrtle and navigate out of the forest. Her panic soothed after a moment when the Hippogriff ducked its head and slid into an elegant bow.

Jenny took several cautious steps towards the creature, hesitating for a moment when it cocked its head to eye her approaching hand curiously. Only once her palm brushed against its warm plumage, did she allow her shoulders to relax. Releasing her held breath, she asked evenly, as though discussing the weather, "Are you hurt?"

Nothing.

Jenny's eyes narrowed at Myrtle, she could see her back raising up and down, she certainly wasn't dead. "Myrtle! Hello? I'd like to leave before— we make any more friends." Her voice caught as she quickly edited her words, not wanting to offend the Hippogriff, who's breath was heaving on her cheek, continually reminding her that her life was only being granted by its good graces.

Slowly the Ravenclaw uncurled, her glasses slightly skewed from the duck-and-cover position she'd assumed. Myrtle's face glowed red, harshly contrasting with the dim forest. Explaining sheepishly, she said, "I panicked."

"I noticed." Jenny had no energy left to scold her and having been an eerily similar position before, she understood the mind-numbing fear that must have blanked her bookish friend's thoughts.

"Do you think we still have time to—"

"We're not going to romp about in the forest in the middle of the bloody night while you try to do your stupid ritual," Jenny snapped. There was no reply from Myrtle. Taking the silence as complacency in her decision, she grabbed Myrtle's hand, poked her wand tip ahead of them to illuminate their path, and half dragged the shell-shocked Ravenclaw the direction of the school. In a quiet huff, she jabbed, "You know for someone so smart, you can be pretty daft."

This comment seemed to jolt Myrtle from her head, "Well, for someone so daft, you can be pretty sure of yourself."

"That sounds like a compliment."

"Proving how daft you really are," although it sounded like the words were charged, there was an air of teasing. Jenny only chuckled in reply.

The walk into the forest had only been about ten minutes, but after almost twenty minutes of walking out, Jenny was beginning to worry. Rather than voicing this concern, she decided to break the silence between them, figuring the forest has to stop eventually. "Tom and I went into the forest once."

"Oh?" Myrtle hummed, she was stuck in deep thought. Perhaps she was in shock, Jenny wondered for a moment, unsure what shock would look like.

"We actually ran into a Hippogriff then too, small forest right?" She teased hoping to jump-start Myrtle again.

"What happened?" This time the input seemed more involved.

Jenny took this encouraging development in stride. "I was completely caught off guard. Didn't know what to do. I think I'd have been killed if I didn't have Tom there to set me right."

"What did he do?"

"He instructed me on how to handle the Hippogriff. I still managed to make it mad, though. Tom always knows what to do. After that, I swore off the Forbidden Forest and hadn't entered it since."

"Until tonight," Myrtle amended.

"Until tonight," she agreed as the trees began thinning out. They had finally reached the tree line, and Jenny was nearly in tears from how relieved she was to see the castle.

Myrtle commented, "I wasn't so sure you knew which way the castle was, I thought we were going to be wandering for hours."

"Wow, after everything that's happened tonight, you still have no faith in me," Jenny mockingly scolded, although her thoughts were the same as Myrtle's.

"I think that was just a fluke," was Myrtle's haughty reply as she puffed her chest up primly.

"Don't you have a book to shove your head in?" She teased as she wiped a muddy finger on the Ravenclaws cheek.

"Don't you have a Gryffindor to hex?"

"No, but speaking of schemes, I'm going to find Tom. I think his 'meeting' is over."

"Okay, look out for prefects."

"Will do," Jenny answered as they parted ways. It was after hours, something Myrtle denounced as a 'shameful disregard of the art of Divination' and would often forget to honor curfew when it was no longer convenient to observe. The walk to the dungeons was luckily uneventful, Peeves was likely causing mayhem in a different part of the castle.

When Jenny entered the common room, she didn't expect to find Tom pacing a hole in the rug or Lestrange nervously eyeing Tom back and forth like some single-personed game of tennis. When the common room door closed with a creak, the two boys stopped their repetitive movements and snapped their attention to her. Tom turned to Lestrange and muttered something in his ear, the boy nodded, eyes still on Jenny, then stood and fled the common room out to the dungeon halls.

"Where's he going? It's after hours," she pointed out.

"Funny," Tom observed with a bitter undertone, "I was about to mention the hour too."

She rolled her eyes, moving to sit close to the fireplace and warm her fingers. "You're not Mrs. Cole, I don't have to tell you when I'm leaving."

His eyes narrowed, but he let it slide. "Where were you?"

She pursed her lips as Tom sat across from her, holding her gaze with a neutral expression, his arms were crossed in a way Jenny imagined a scolding father would do after catching their child sneaking out. "You can't be mad, because I could just choose not to tell you. Okay?"

He raised an eyebrow, then flatly said, "No promises."

Sighing she accepted that would probably be the best answered she'd get, she revealed, "I was in the Forbidden Forest." He stood, anger and horror flashing across his features. "But I was with Myrtle!" She tacked on trying to calm him.

"Is that supposed to make it somehow _less_ reckless?" He hissed, but Jenny was relieved to see the anger and horror ebbed away from his face to be replaced with annoyance. "Well was it worth it?" He sneered with a look of disgust as he eyed her filthy appearance.

Ignoring his thinly veiled jab, she nodded and with a newfound excitement said, "We found a Hippogriff." Tom's eyes widened. Pleased with the effect her words had she continued, "And I was able to handle it all by myself!"

"Wrestling in the mud doesn't necessarily qualify as 'handling it.'"

She frowned and in a pout insisted, "Really, I did everything right! I thought you'd be impressed."

"You wouldn't have been out after hours if you did everything right," he pointed out bitterly. With that, he flicked his wand at her, cleaning the mud from her clothes and hands.

Before she could complain or thank him, she hadn't decided which, the common room doors swung open. Lestrange was trailed by Avery and Nott. Her eyes narrowed at the strange assortment, and she couldn't help but wonder where Rosier and Muciber were. "What were you three up to?"

"Those two," Tom gestured to Avery and Nott, "were looking for you. Obviously, when you showed back up, I had to send Lestrange to fetch them before they got themselves detention."

"Thanks, I guess."

Her face must have given away her confusion, because Tom huffed and hurriedly explained, "If a young lady goes missing in the dead of night with no explanation, that's a cause for concern."

"How heroic," Jenny granted dryly.

"Thanks!" Avery butted in smugly, throwing an arm around Jenny's shoulders. "So who was the lucky bloke?"

Between his casual friendliness and lewd implications, Jenny was nearly ready to pop from anger. Tom, however, spoke before she could get in a few choice insults, "Avery!" He barked the name with a level of authority and fury that was startling. "Please retire for the evening. Maybe with your free time, you can review the phrase 'keeping to oneself.'"

The results were almost instant, Avery yanked his arm away from Jenny as though her shoulders had only recently been pulled from an oven. He was reduced to a stuttering, nervous mess, "Yes, m— Riddle."

Once Avery had fled, Lestrange and Nott seemed in an equal urgency to leave as well. They both quickly made excuses to follow his exit, but not before Nott said with a smirk, "Avery really doesn't know when to filter his thoughts."

This comment elicited a scathing glare from Tom to Nott, almost equal to the one he'd leveled Avery with. The common room was quickly emptied, leaving only Tom and Jenny.

He broke the silence, rounding on Jenny with a firm tone, "I don't like you hanging around that mudblood."

"I don't like you telling me who I can hang around," Jenny said back, her voice not revealing any anger, only sounding tired. This wasn't the first time or even the third time they'd butted heads about Myrtle. Their argument was distilled from the many rehashings it endured, it was almost like they read from a script that always ended in a stalemate.

Tom let out a long sigh, he appeared as tired as Jenny sounded. "She's going to get you killed. Tonight should've been enough to prove that."

"I had everything under control."

"What happens when you don't?"

"If you're so worried why don't you let me sit in on your Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring sessions? You already help me on some assignments as it is."

"I've told you this before. You'd be a distraction!"

"For who?!"

He placed a finger on his temple and closed his eyes, behaving as though a headache was building. "Jenny, just go to bed. We'll discuss this in the morning."

"No! I want to know. Who would I distract, Tom?"

"Drop it!" His voice was raised loud enough that they both nervously glanced around, checking for Professor Slughorn or a prefect to scold them, but they remained alone. Tom repeated quieter this time, "Just, drop it."

"You want to know what I think?"

"Not particularly," was his soft growl of a reply.

"I think that you aren't tutoring anyone. I think there's something else going on."

" _If_ there were something else going on, it wouldn't be any concern for a young lady."

"Not this again," she sighed. Tom grabbed her arm, stopping her from storming to her room.

"Let's both agree about something right now," he went silent for a second waiting for Jenny to give some indication she was listening, her eyes narrowed. He continued, "We both shouldn't be asking questions we don't want to know the truth about."

He quickly took his exit, fleeing to his room. She blinked, once, twice, confusion completely blanketing her mind. Did she really not want to know what he was up to? They had grown up in synchronization for so long, that only a few years ago having their own secrets was out of the question. Between those Borgin and Burke's books, his group of 'friends,' and his 'meetings,' she had lost a piece of him.

She wondered if Tom thought he was losing her too. He did seem somewhat defensive about Myrtle. She found herself in bed that night, awake, haunted by the ghost of futures without Tom. Myrtle would probably say it was some sort of sign they were in 'love,' but the only thing Jenny could focus on was the ringing of alarms in her ears. It sounded like the sirens that would wail when bombers flew overhead. The sound had always shot a primal terror through her.

After that, Tom and Jenny had fallen into a treaty of sorts, one that benefited them both. Tom wouldn't be asked hard questions, and Jenny wouldn't be placed in hard situations. Jenny especially felt this agreement benefited her the most, especially given that she'd been burned the hardest when Tom hadn't back down from a question he didn't want the answer to, even though it took him a bottle of truth serum to realize it. This was why when Rosier approached Jenny with the promise of an answer burning on his lips, she been caught entirely unawares.

Summer break was quickly approaching marking the end of their fourth year. Jenny had decided to celebrate with some much needed alone time. Myrtle and Tom had been tirelessly competing for her attention. It was a problem she'd never experienced before and was not enjoying. Seeking refuge, she snuck to the edge of the Great Lake to read. She was seated in the grass, her back pressed against a large stone that'd laid unmoved for Merlin-only-knows how many years. She was studying one a herbology book, for leisure purposes rather than for any pending assignment, when the beams of light she'd been soaking in became shaded.

Rosier hovered over her, like a nervous moon, eclipsing the sun. "You don't come here often."

Jenny nearly argued that she'd never come here before, but she held her tongue; instead, she nodded, "Neither do you."

"What are you reading?"

"Our herbology textbook."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?" She didn't know what he wanted, but she was almost sure he was running some sort of errand for Tom. "Just spit it out already so I can enjoy my afternoon alone."

"Right, sorry. I— Ah— So— Are you aware of Tom's club?"

She frowned, this wasn't what she'd expected. Sliding a small portion of parchment between the pages of her book, she shut it slowly, placing it on her lap. On the one hand, the agreement Tom had proposed was working splendidly for both of them. On the other, she certainly didn't ask about it, and she wasn't even getting the answer from Tom. So, she considered, did this even technically fall under the realm of 'Don't ask questions you don't want the truth to'?

"I am aware," she said diplomatically, although she added an inflection in her tone to show her confusion. She didn't have to come right out and ask about it, but if she sat there and did nothing, maybe the answers would plop onto her lap.

"I think you have a right to know what Tom's been up to. He didn't want us talking to you almost all year, and he still doesn't want Mucibler or me alone with you. He thinks we're going to say something to you."

Jenny raised her brow, and dryly commented, "He may have been on to something."

Rosier rolled his eyes, "Listen, I don't know how much time I'll have before Avery notices my absence, so don't interrupt."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"No, Avery and I are fine, it's just sometimes he gets so caught up in Tom's nonsense. It just seems— Stop interrupting me!" He snapped when he realized he'd gotten off track. "That group always hanging around Tom, it's not a study group." That much, Jenny had been able to gather on her own, she pressed her lips into a thin line as he paused dramatically. Leveling him with an unamused stare, he continued, "It's a _club_."

"A club? How scandalous. 'Boy Makes Club.' I can see the headlines on the Daily Prophet now."

"Not just _any_ club," Rosier huffed indignantly. "A Dark Arts club."

"And if enough people held the same interests as Myrtle, I'm sure she'd make a Divination club. This isn't exactly hard-hitting stuff."

"Are you even hearing me?! It's a Dark Arts club! We're called the Knights of Walpurgis!" This did invoke a reaction from Jenny although much to Rosier's dismay she'd begun laughing.

Once her laughs settled, she tested out the name, "Knights of—" her sentence was interrupted with another bubble of giggles. "Walpurgis!" After taking several breaths, she sighed, "That's brilliant."

"You're not the least bit concerned?" He sounded disgusted.

"Concerned about what exactly? Tom's a great wizard, he's not going to get himself hurt on these spells, he's already promised he wouldn't do any Unforgivables, and they have Dark Arts books in the library. If they didn't want us to know this stuff, the headmaster would have removed them." She stood, brushing her skirt off from any grass or dirt that may have found itself on her and left, leaving Rosier to watch her retreating form in confusion.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was peppered with the occasional annoyed grumble from Jenny about privacy and alone time. When she finally made it to Tom's dormitory, her mood had recovered significantly. Inside she discovered Tom speaking lowly with Lestrange, ignoring the two she strolled to Tom's bed and laid down, opening her herbology book again.

"Can I help you?" Tom asked, his voice was torn between annoyance and amusement.

"No." There was a low chuckle, Jenny glanced in the direction of the sound, trying to figure out if it had been Tom or Lestrange, but it was inconclusive. Her eyes floated back to the pages.

"We'll talk later." The clipped, serious tone, was easy to identify as Tom.

The beat of silence following it, made Jenny pause her reading, thinking that perhaps she had just been dismissed, but Lestrange suddenly found his voice. "Just know that's on the table."

"Goodbye, Lestrange." It was firm. The tension felt almost stifling. Jenny wondered if maybe she'd interrupted an argument between the two.

Lestrange had finally taken his leave, giving Tom and Jenny the room. Tom broke the silence while tapping the side of her head. "Sit up for a second."

She raised her head, watching wordlessly as he climbed into the bed too. He was carrying a book in his hand, it was bound in thick, inky black leather, and the title was printed in a red, angry, jagged looking font, it looked Greek or maybe Latin. She'd never paid much mind to their alphabets before and at this moment felt quite stupid for not doing so.

"Okay." Tom finally stopped adjusting, he'd settled so her head would fall into his lap if she went limp, and she did just that, allowing her head to press against his legs and her hair to spill over his lap. This had often been a position they'd relax together in when they were children.

They sat in silence for a while, both staring into their books, Jenny listened patiently for the sound of Tom flipping the book's pages, but the telltale rustle of paper never came. She stared into her book too, lost in thought. Finally, she broke her silence. "I know that I said I wanted some alone time," she began her unneeded explanation. Tom hummed in reply, he sounded distracted. Maybe he had actually been reading. Pushing this thought aside, Jenny continued, "And I did— I do. But Rosier was bugging me, and I knew if I came here, no one would bother me, I hope that's alright."

"Of course it's alright," Tom said, a little condescendingly, as though she'd been a fool to even consider otherwise. "What did Rosier want?" He sounded uninterested, but if what Rosier said was right, he must be anything but.

"He told me about the Knights of Walpurgis," she couldn't suppress the amusement in her tone as she said the name. "I had almost forgotten that ghost story. It wasn't very flattering to witches and wizards if you remember." Tom was silent, so Jenny continued, reciting a bit of the hymn, " _'Witches bound for the Brocken are we, / The stubble is yellow, the new grain is green. / All our number will gather there, / And You-Know-Who will take the chair. / So we race on over hedges and ditches, / The he-goats stink and so do the witches.'_ " She chuckled and added, "Then it went something, something, _'And this Walpurgis night to see, / That we should quit this company.'_ Don't you remember? We must have been about seven or eight when one of the older kids first told us that story. All the witches and wizards would gather on Walpurgis night to cast spells. I think I had nightmares for weeks."

Their books lay forgotten on the bed, Jenny was watching Tom's expression now, it softened slightly at the mention of that memory. "You had nightmares for months. That kid was very cruel," he added with a frown. "What else did Rosier say?"

"Just that it's a club about the Dark Arts. You could have just told me that no girls are allowed," Jenny sighed. "I completely understand if you just want to have your own thing. Sort of like when I hang out with Myrtle. We don't have to do everything together, so you don't have to lie about making a club, and you don't have to feel obligated to include me or tell me details about it."

"I'm glad you understand," Tom's face twisted into a please smile.

* * *

 **AN:** That excerpt about Walpurgis night was from the play _Faust (1808)_. Anyway, what'd you think?


	20. Chapter 20

_The companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain._

 _\- Mary Shelley, Frankenstein -_

* * *

It was the kind of hot, sticky, summer day that nobody wanted to go out in; even the bugs hid in the shade, afraid their wings would melt under the heat. So Jenny couldn't help but wonder, as the air slid on her skin like molasses, why she was outside with a boy whose nose and arms grew faster than the rest of his body. They were walking shoulder to shoulder down a nearly abandoned street, save for the lone newspaper boy at the corner, who was hidden under his umbrella shade, advertising a recently published article. It was something about the war and tire prices, or maybe it was about the war and the death count, or it might just be about war and children. All those fatalistic articles melted into each other after enough similar headlines. Then she remembered how she ended up next to him, she, like many other 'young ladies', had been paired off by Mrs. Cole. She did that to most girls close to becoming adults, Jenny couldn't have ever pictured herself to be included within that group for nearly-grown orphaned-girls that needed some direction before becoming full adults. She supposed Mrs. Cole reasoned that marrying and having a bunch of sticky-fingered children was as much of a direction as any. That category of nearly-grown orphaned-girls Jenny fell into was almost non-existent when she was a child, but the war was leaving more children orphaned, and more women broke and widowed, Wool's was bearing the brunt of this expanding excess of undesired children.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come!" His optimistic rambling shook her from her thoughts.

She nearly let out a scornful laugh. Like Mrs. Cole would let her say no without a fight. Jenny smiled in response, although she could feel the pull of a grimace on her face. She wondered what made him so happy. The country was in the middle of a war, who did he think he was to be happy?

"Let's go in there," was her only answer, pointing to a stationary shop with a large sign hanging over its door that read Winstanley's Bookstore and Stationers. Jenny didn't need any stationery paper or any muggle books, but she was desperate to escape the heat.

Their date had mainly taken place in an ice cream shop and the walk back to the orphanage was dreadfully long. Jenny had only ordered a scoop of vanilla in a bowl, in hopes he would recognize she wanted their date to be short-lived, but he ordered a giant ice cream cone. He sat and licked at it slowly, long after her vanilla ice cream had vanished into a puddle. Taking his time he explained tirelessly about how he was playing baseball in primary school and wanted to continue playing once he gets his diploma and that more people should take time to appreciate the little things, like baseball or building sandcastles. She nearly rolled her eyes at this. He only mentioned sandcastles because Jenny had mockingly said she was rather partial to the hobby herself. It wasn't actually an interest of her's and the only time she could remember building a sandcastle must have been over six years ago. When she told him, she had expected him to laugh at the thought of her considering sandcastle building to be a hobby, but he'd put on a solemn face and nodded as though he could picture her on a beach day in and day out with a bucket and seashells. Bitterly she compared him to Tom, knowing Tom would have never thought low enough of her to even entertain this.

There was a musical ding of a bell as he held the door open for her. The air in the book store was stale and stuffy, but in comparison to outside, it was a welcomed relief. The aged wooden flooring creaked below Jenny's freshly polished Mary Janes and Wallace's worn penny loafers. He made a show of actually popping the penny out of them to show Jenny. 'A real American penny,' he had chortled after exhausting the topic of baseball. He went on to explain that his father had gone to America for a business trip and when he came back he still had some American money left, including the two pennies that had been saved especially for his penny loafers. Jenny's shoes had a lot more boring backstory, one she didn't share with him. The shoes were thrusted into her face the night before by a girl around the same age as her. Apparently, Mrs. Cole instructed the girl to lend them to Jenny, even though they'd been a size too small and had been worn to the point that the smooth head of the nail holding the heel on could be felt through the leather lining of the shoe.

"Welcome, welcome," a gray man wheezed as he shuffled from a back room.

"Did you have anything you were looking for," Wallace breathed into her ear.

Jenny stared at him for a moment, backing away from him a little. His body had somehow gotten increasingly closer as the date continued. 'A God-fearing church boy,' Mrs. Cole had described him, 'A good first boyfriend and a good choice for a husband.' Mrs. Cole had met the boy's mother at church, of course, this was his only selling point.

"Excuse me," Jenny spoke to the elderly man who'd been eyeing them from behind the counter, ignoring the boy completely. She could feel the sweat drying on her hairline the longer she spent in the store, and she desperately wanted to cool down entirely before trekking the rest of the way back to the orphanage. "Do you have a gardening section?"

"Yes, this way." The man puffed as he shuffled across the floor. Jenny and Wallace trailed behind him faithfully as they navigated further into the columns of bookshelves.

"Gardening? I thought you liked sandcastles."

"I have multiple interests," she answered mysteriously. She should have just told him that sandcastles had been a joke, like she should have done at the ice cream parlor, but there was something romantic about battling the sea, dutifully building castle upon castle to only watch them wash away, or it could have just been the heat planting silly fantasies about a chilling ocean in her head. Either way, she had doubled down on her sandcastle hobby now.

"Here we are," the bookkeeper said mildly. Then as slowly as he'd taken them there, he meandered back to the store's front.

"What's your favorite type of plant?"

"What's your favorite type of baseball?" She shot back, feeling rather clever.

He went quiet for a moment, and she smiled to herself, thinking she'd finally shut him up, then he answered thoughtfully, "I suppose the kind that doesn't break windows."

She froze, her hand poised to pull a book from the shelf when she turned to stare at him. He had a boyish grin on his face, the kind Jenny usually saw paired with a nasty prank, but his eyes held an earnest, trusting, expression that made her wonder if he'd ever seen anything cruel in life. "My favorite plant is azaleas." She moved her hand from a gardening guide book and pulled out a plant encyclopedia instead. Taking a moment she flipped through the pages until she found a grainy black and white picture of a large, wavy petalled, azalea which she proudly displayed to him.

His eyes sparkled as he looked from the girl to the picture, "Is it because their as beautiful as you?"

She frowned, some God-fearing church boy he was, it's not even the second date. "No, it's because they poisoned Roman soldiers." Snatching the book back from him, she folded it closed and slid it into its snug resting place between two other books.

"You don't like Romans?"

"I don't mind Romans."

"Then why do you like that it poisoned their soldiers."

She shook her head, "That was a long time ago. I like that it's not what you expect. When you looked at it, you didn't see that it was toxic, you only saw its flower. That's what I like about plants, they're never lending themselves to first impressions."

"Would you consider yourself similar to a plant?"

She leaned away from his hand as it rose to brush her hair behind her ear. "No, I don't." He drew his hand back at this reaction. She couldn't help but smirk as she thought to herself, 'That's right, Jenny Endall, the girl who likes single scoops of vanilla ice cream and sandcastles.' She would be exactly this to him.

He cleared his throat, eyes latching onto the next thing he saw, a notebook. To be exact, a journal Jenny had been thumbing through. She had been trying to decide if this would be a good herbology notebook, she liked to sketch the plant leaves and sometimes their flowers along with their descriptions or traits, she was holding out hope for a journal with large enough margins to allow this. "Need a notebook for school?"

She considered how to answer. If she responded yes, he would ask which subject, and she would need to say something boring like maths and pretend to be interested in muggle schoolwork. "No, it's a gift."

"For who?"

"A boy," that would put an end to this. The sooner she squashed Wallace's hopes of going steady with her, the better. If he never asked to see her again, maybe Mrs. Cole would think of her as a lost cause. "You wouldn't know him."

He didn't look perturbed in the slightest, "Bet I do."

"His name is Tom."

"Tom Riddle?"

"How did you know?"

"Some of my mates live at that orphanage, we go to the same school and church," he shrugged at his explanation. "I heard that he and you go to the same private school."

"We do."

"I also heard he attacks children and beats women." He didn't have a dopey smile on anymore.

"That's not true," her protesting fell to deaf ears.

"Why Tom Riddle? I bet he doesn't treat you very nice."

"He treats me perfectly fine."

"Is he getting _you_ a gift?"

"This would be for his birthday!" She snapped. That wasn't true, but she wasn't going to stand around and allow this boy to dismantle her friendship.

"Alright," he held up his hands is resignation. "I just think a young lady should be getting the best."

"It's a leather-bound journal, I think it's great quality," she huffed quietly as she handed several pence to the old man.

The bell rang as they exited the store. Jenny's pace was quick, initially set to leave Wallace barely instep with her, but it slowed as the heat from the concrete worked in tandem with the sun to cook them on both sides. The walk to the orphanage was silent, and when they finally got to the front gates, Jenny felt a little sad for a moment realizing she had truly blown it with him. That had been her intentions of course, but there was something about Mrs. Cole's constant reminders this summer about her inevitable adulthood that made her anxious to hurry up and settle down with a nice man, even if that wasn't what she wanted.

She opened the gate to the orphanage, thinking Wallace wasn't going to say another word to her when suddenly he suggested, "Maybe next time we can go to the beach and make sandcastles. What do you say?"

In spite of her best effort, a smile spread across her face. Allowing herself to become possessed by the girl who likes single scoops of vanilla ice cream and sandcastles, she answered, "I'd like that."

His eyes lit up, and a sizeable boyish grin spread across his mouth, "It's a date. I'll have my mum and Mrs. Cole sort the details."

She found herself walking through the front gates of the orphanage feeling conflicted. Her initial reaction to the idea of a second date was elation, which was immediately followed by horror, because she didn't even want the first and should have refused a second, and the final emotion which by far was the most prominent: guilt. The guilt was the most confusing for her because she had no idea where this emotion was coming from. She reviewed the date mentally several times. She had been rude, but when she considered each instance, she didn't feel guilty about it, and Wallace wasn't even bothered obviously, so there was no reason for guilt. It was still there though, weighing on her mind.

She floated to her room in a dream-like state, caught in a mesmerizing whirl of emotions, apart from the guilt it was euphoric, she actually felt desired. He didn't see her as 'that girl from Wool's in hand-me-down everything' or as 'Hogwarts local pureblood orphan: the last of a lineage'. She was just her, or whoever she chose to be, which was 'the girl who likes single scoops of vanilla ice cream and sandcastles'. She sat down on her bed and pulled the borrowed pair of Mary Janes from her feet, wiggling her toes in pain. While she tried to regain full feeling in her feet, she considered if checking out some books from the library about sandcastle building would help her truly fit the persona she'd created. Before she could come to a fitting conclusion, her guilt stormed into the room in the form of an irate teenage boy.

"What were you doing?"

"You're going to need to be more specific," Jenny said dryly.

"I saw you come back, being escorted by that _muggle_."

"It was a date. Plenty of women my age date," she wasn't sure if this was true, but Mrs. Cole had said it in the same prim tone, and Jenny thought it sounded sophisticated.

"Purebloods don't date muggles," Tom hissed venomously.

She rolled her eyes, "It's just a bit of fun, no harm done. I would have mentioned it to you earlier, but it was such a rushed affair that when I finally had a moment this morning, you had already gone into town."

"No harm done?! What if someone _respectable_ had seen?"

"I don't see what the problem is," she sighed in exasperation.

Tom visibly deflated at this. "You don't see what the problem is with being seen as a blood traitor?"

She stared blankly at him, "Am I supposed to care?"

"This is your _name_ , your reputation! Of course you should care."

"My surname will vanish once I wed anyway," she dismissed flippantly.

Tom's expression was somewhere between ill and concerned, making his brows draw together and appear as though he was going to be sick. "You plan to marry him?"

"I don't even know his last name!" Jenny said indignantly, "Do you really think I'd become betrothed to the first boy I date?!"

"Your actions have been unpredictable. First, the mudblood, now this muggle. Where's the line? Are you going to start having sleepovers with house-elves?"

She glared at Tom, although she had no idea what a house-elf was, she had enough sense to feel insulted by it. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Acting like what? Reasonable?!"

Frowning, she let the Mary Janes land with a thud on the rug. Crossing the room, she pulled a brown, wrapped package from the table. "I got this for you while I was out. I'm not going to give it to you if you keep acting so— so Oafish!" It had been the first insult that came to mind. Her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, but she silently hoped he would interpret it as anger.

"Why were you getting gifts for another guy? Wouldn't that make your _date_ jealous?"

"If you had listened to what I have been trying to tell you, and what I wanted to tell you this morning: I didn't want to go on a date!"

"Then why'd you go?" He crossed his arms impatiently.

"You know Mrs. Cole! Sometimes it's better to just go along with it. I'm at that age— you know. She's just trying to make sure we have a future when we leave, that's all." She glared at the spot where the wall met the floorboards, avoiding his gaze, letting the package hang loosely at her side, still clutched in her hand.

There was a pregnant pause, then Tom finally asked, "What did you get me then?"

She looked back and him, he had an inscrutable look blanketing his face, but she smiled, glad he hadn't just stormed out. "It's silly," she prefaced. "He apparently had time to ask around about me before the date and started assuming insulting things about me." It was a white lie, but it saved her from telling Tom about the rumors, even if she didn't think that it would hurt his feelings. "Anyway," she continued quickly, "I told him that I was looking at this," she held up the package a little, "as a gift for a boy, to nip any interest in me in the bud, so I actually had to buy something."

"Although I don't like being used as a scapegoat, I'm not opposed to putting muggles in their place," he accepted the package from Jenny and peeled back the paper.

"Sorry," she explained shyly, "I was in a rush, I didn't really—"

He spoke over her panicked backtracking, "It's excellent. I'll use it to keep notes about my Knights of Walpurgis meetings."

She let out a small relieved sigh, "That's good, I was worried it wouldn't get any use. I didn't need it, it wasn't even close to the kind of notebook I was looking for, so I'm glad you'll find some purpose for it. Even if it is just a diary to track your meetings."

There was a pause while Tom thought, then he said, "I have a proposal for you."

"Should I be worried?"

He rolled his eyes, "No. Why would you be?"

"Does this have something to do with you going into town earlier today?"

"No. If you would just be quiet, I'll tell you."

"Well, out with it."

"We're going to Lestrange's for the rest of the summer."

"What? Did Mrs. Cole say it was okay?"

"I'm going to ask her this evening. Then I'll send for Lestrange to arrange for us to be picked up at Diagon Alley."

"When was this set up?"

"Lestrange had offered to have us stay over the summer before Hogwarts let out, but I only recently decided."

"How recently?"

"Does it matter? I have to go tell Mrs. Cole about our plans. I can't imagine she'd say no, she needs the extra space."

Tom turned to leave the room, and Jenny blurted as he started crossing the door's threshold, "He asked me on a second date!" Tom froze in his spot, his back rigid. "And I said yes," she added quietly.

"Do you want to go on a second date with that— that— _creature_?" He finally turned to study her expression, his gaze was sharp and guarded.

"I don't know. I did for a moment, but I don't even like him. He only really talked about himself," _because you didn't engage in conversation_ , her subconscious whispered, "and he thought I was stupid or something," _you said you like building sandcastles, and he believed you, that was all,_ her mind reasoned harshly.

"Then there's an easy solution, you leave and don't go on a second date. It's as simple as that."

"Why did you decide to go to Lestrange's? If the offers been on the table all summer why wait until it's almost the end?"

"Do you want to know the answer to that question?" He asked, patiently.

Jenny stared at him for a moment weighing the depth of his mirthless eyes. Finally feeling like a small child, she shook her head no, she already knew what had acted as the catalyst for this decision, confirming it would only cause problems.

At the shake of her head, he turned to leave again, saying quietly, "I'll go make the necessary arrangements. Pack now, we'll likely be leaving before the end of this week."

Mrs. Cole and Wallace's mother only ever saw each other at the Sunday church service. It was Monday when Tom had decided they would leave and by Friday Lestrange's father came to Diagon Alley to apparate Jenny and Tom to the manor. By the time Mrs. Cole would receive word that Jenny wanted a second date, she would be gone until the next summer.

Lestrange's father had apparated them into the front garden, it had a large manicured lawn with several brass statues lining a brick walkway to the front door. Once he led them inside the manor, they were introduced to the resident house-elf, Madky, and Lestrange's father went to fetch Lestrange, leaving Madky to play host for a moment.

"Would the young master or missus like water or a cup of tea?"

Jenny had been giving the elf distance, it's small, angular body reminded her of a malnourished child and left her feeling unnerved as it stared up with a similarly childlike expression.

Unlike Jenny, Tom was nearly tickled by the house-elf. Taking a step closer, a small smirk spread across his face as he said in mock disappointment, "I was actually hoping you had coffee."

This phrase sparked turmoil almost immediately, the creature began beating its oversized head with its small hands as it growled over and over again, "Senseless, careless, useless Madky."

The creature looked almost rabid as it continued saying the same phrase to the beat of bony fists against its skull. Jenny's hand itched for her wand, in case its aggression suddenly turned onto them. She stepped closer to Tom, grabbing his arm with shaking fingers and whispered in his ear, "What's wrong with it?"

He shook his head. "Relax," he had obviously felt her trembling. "House-elves are as harmless as they are simple." Raising his voice, he spoke over the growls of the creature that had begun writhing on the floor, jolting with each smack of its fist, "Madky! I'm waiting for my coffee."

"Yes, young master!" Madky groveled at Tom's feet for a moment before hopping up and sprinting through a door.

As the creature exited, Lestrange came in through a different door trailed by his father. "Ah Riddle, Endall, I'm glad you were able to accept my invitation."

Jenny had half a mind to point out that the invitation had never been directly extended to her, but she didn't want to appear rude in front of Lestrange's father, so instead, she gave a stiff smile.

Tom spoke on their behalf, "Thank you for opening your home to us, Mr. Lestrange. It was very kind." His tone was oozing charm.

"Oh, it's no problem, no problem at all," Lestrange's father said in a soft voice. It was the longest sentence he'd said to them so far. "Ballard, show Mr. Riddle and Ms. Endall to their rooms." It was weird for Jenny to hear Lestrange's first name, it was never really said at Hogwarts that often, it felt embarrassing and private, like she'd just been shown a baby picture of him.

"Right." Lestrange said, "Come on." He began pushing through a large black door, that had an intricate design carved along the edges, but when he glanced back, he stopped walking and gave a small laugh, "No, no, leave your things, Madky will bring it to your room."

Jenny flushed red, "Oh, yes, of course."

Lestrange took them up a large winding staircase that leveled onto a long hallway. It had about a dozen rooms, "This is the guest wing," Lestrange mumbled in explanation.

Each door was several feet taller than the ones in the orphanage. Jenny mentally noted she would have to ask Tom if short entries were a sign of poverty. The end of the hallway had a large stained glass window that allowed sunlight to stream through in chunks of purples, greens, and oranges. Lestrange pulled open the first door on their left. The room had a large bed in the center with a canopy hanging over it. Against the wall was a wardrobe and mirror, at the back of the room was a door similar to the one they had just opened. "Jenny, this is where you'll be staying, the bathroom is the door in the back. Tom will be across the hall."

Lestrange made a show of escorting them through several different rooms including a sitting room, an entertainment room, and the door to Lestrange's father's study, which they were not allowed to enter. Jenny tried to commit the forbidden room to memory, first studying the door's appearance then trying to memorize its location in the house, but there were so many doors and different areas that looked the same. She wasn't confident that she'd successfully recognize it again, settling to just not wander about alone, as she was nervous about stumbling somewhere off-limits and offending the hosts.

The Lestrange's also had their own library filled with towering bookcases that reached the top of the tall ceilings. It had a large fireplace that crackled with what must have been a new fire since there was almost no ash collected along the brick. Tom had immediately gravitated towards a section about Dark Arts, and Lestrange trailed behind him, quietly answering any questions Tom had about their library. Jenny floated at Tom's elbow for a bit, but after he pulled the third seemingly identical, red-dyed leather textbook off the shelf, she lost interest.

She strayed to the edge of the library, where a giant window split the wall, it was one of the few windows that hadn't been stained glass, and she peered eagerly into the back garden. There was a small pond several paces away from a greenhouse that looked very similar to the ones at Hogwarts, the only difference being that Jenny couldn't see any blurry, large plants beyond the fogged over glass. Some distance away from the manor was what appeared to be a smaller house. Jenny considered for a moment if wealthy people had abnormally large sheds like they have unusually tall ceilings.

"What's that?" She asked, hopeful that it wasn't actually a shed.

Although she had wandered away from the two boys, the silent library allowed her question to still find their ears. Tom was the first to emerge from the book jungle, following shortly behind him was Lestrange. Jenny pressed her finger against the glass, pointing to the small building. Tom, for once, didn't appear to have an answer as he looked to Lestrange expectantly.

"That's just the guest house," he explained with a little shrug. "That's normally for people who are spending a long time with us," then as an afterthought, he added, "or families."

Tom nodded after a beat, looped his arm with Jenny's, then said, "I think Jenny would like a tour of the greenhouse next."

She was about to point out there were no plants in there, but Lestrange beat her to it, "It's not stocked. Mum had it built. She liked to have fresh flowers and vegetables. My dad's been weird about it since— you know."

Jenny stared hard out the window at the greenhouse. An empty room, or rather a barren greenhouse, she wondered if that was because of grief. She couldn't relate to the lack of action. She thought that kind of pain would be destructive, not vacant. The greenhouse was almost flat against the window, like an image in a picture frame, it wasn't windy out so everything appeared frozen in place, like it'd been drawn onto the glass and would always remain that way. Jenny had unconsciously been tightening her grip on Tom's arm and hadn't realized it until he shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

She released Tom's arm and quickly changed the subject, "Was the pond your mum's idea?"

"No, I was able to convince my parents to add it before we had even started at Hogwarts. I thought it'd be so cool to have." Lestrange stared glossy-eyed into the motionless back garden. Jenny could nearly see a memory reflecting in his eyes.

Jenny and Lestrange both jumped as a loud crack pierced the silence of the library. Jenny's hand had reached for Tom's arm in fear, and she felt that his muscles were tense, although she couldn't be sure if that was from the sound or her movement.

"Dinner is ready for the young masters and missus," Hadky squeaked before vanishing again.

"Thank—" Lestrange had begun, only to stop and shake his head at the empty space that once occupied a house-elf.

"Does he do that a lot?" Jenny asked, willing her heart to stop pounding.

"Yeah, but you'll get used to it."

Tom scoffed, "You looked nearly as startled as Jenny."

"You're mistaken."

"You're blushing," Jenny teased.

"Let's go to the dining room before dinner gets cold," was his terse reply.

The dining room was the definition of posh. It had a long mahogany table in the center, it's length nearly matching the tables in the dining hall at Hogwarts. Dangling on a delicate chain over the dining table was a large chandelier, that Jenny couldn't help but think was a bit tacky. The room was littered once again with stained glass windows, which had been something that had enchanted Jenny initially, but it was beginning to get tiring the more places she saw with it. Lestrange sat at the head of the table, something Tom raised his brow at but didn't comment on. Instead, he took a seat at Lestrange's left, and Jenny quickly slid into the chair next to Tom.

"Will your father be joining us?" Tom asked between bites.

They were having a roasted ham, which Jenny had been focused on devouring since taking a seat. Although the house-elf appeared to be a dangerous, dirty creature, it certainly knew how to cook.

"No. Dad's been a bit off since mum died. He usually makes his own food and eats in his study." He was staring pointedly into the stringed beans on his plate.

Jenny's looked between Tom and Lestrange curiously. Tom should have known about this dynamic, the two of them were friends, weren't they? Trying to ease the mood, she commented, "Well, he should certainly try this. Did Madky cook this all by himself?"

"Yes. He is good, isn't he?" Lestrange perked up a little as he boasted. Then as quickly as he perked up, he deflated, adding quietly, "It upsets Madky that father no longer likes to be served by him."

"I do remember you mentioning that," Tom spoke up. "Didn't you say he had harsh reactions to disappointing people?" He sent a sly smirk to Jenny.

Lestrange nodded miserably, "He does."

Remembering the coffee incident, Jenny involuntarily shuddered.

The rest of the evening went along much more smoothly. After dinner, they played a game of exploding snaps and enjoyed a bit of Knotgrass Mead they'd snuck from the Lestrange family cellar. Once they tired of exploding snaps, they switched to playing wizard chess. Initially, they paired up so it would be Jenny and Lestrange versus Tom. After losing three rounds, Lestrange insisted it was because Tom knew Jenny too well, making them too predictable, so they switched to Tom and Jenny versus Lestrange, which he then proceeded to lose every game in quick succession. After the fifth loss, he decided it was time to retire for the evening.

Tom led Jenny back to the guest wing, his sense of direction in the manor had developed quickly, and she couldn't help but feel envious as he navigated through the halls expertly. When they reached the guest wing, they split apart, Tom slipping into his own room. Jenny quickly surveyed the new territory. At the foot of her bed was her truck that the house-elf must have brought up. She quickly pulled a cotton nightgown from the depths and changed. It was one of her favorite nightgowns, Mrs. Cole had taught her how to sew on it. It had a long, narrow pocket along the seam, one where her wand could fit. Mrs. Cole had scolded her for making the pocket too small and ruining the fabric, but Jenny knew it was just the right size.

After changing into her night things, she padded across the hall to Tom's bedroom, not pausing to knock, she swung open the door to find him already seated under the fluffy comforter and reading from a book.

"I thought you were going to bed?" He sounded bored and uninterested.

"I will. I just wanted to talk first."

This caused his attention to be pulled from his reading. Folding the book shut and using his finger as a placeholder, he let it rest on his lap. "By all means."

Jenny stole a look at the book he was reading. It was a thick book that left fingerprints wherever he touched from the layer of dust that had collected on it, the title _Ancestral Trees and Pureblood Phratry_ was in gilded, cursive letters. "Some light reading before bed?" She joked.

"This?" He held the book up unceremoniously, then disregarded it on the nightstand next to several other publications. "I had Lestrange gather these from the library before we got here."

Jenny glanced to Tom nervously, his family was always a sensitive subject. Treading carefully, she asked, "Any luck?"

"I'm beginning to think I was merely willed into existence." He sounded bitter. "No traces of the surname Riddle anywhere."

"That would be cool," she joked lightly, taking a seat next to him in the large bed.

"What would be?" He grumbled.

"Being willed into existence. No mother or father, one day, you just are."

He shook his head, "That's not what happened."

"I know, I was only saying."

Shooting her an exasperated look, he asked, "What did you need anyway?"

"The ceilings are tall," she abruptly started.

"They are tall," he confirmed drily.

"This place is weird," she whispered, suddenly becoming irrationally paranoid that Lestrange had his ear pressed against the door.

"Is it?"

"Have we not experienced the same thing?! Our bedrooms have their own bathrooms, there's a smaller manor for guest in the back garden, and where do I even begin with the servant creature," she listed incredulously.

"It's how purebloods live. You should get used to it, you'll have to become the lady of a manor one day," he reminded her with an arrogant air. Then a little apprehensively, he asked, "You don't hate it here, do you?"

"I'd prefer it somewhere normal, like Hogwarts or Wool's—"

He harshly cut in, "You only want to be at Wool's because of that muggle boy."

She frowned, " _No_ , and I'm not going to leave if that's what you think."

"Then what's your problem?"

"It's weird, that's all!" She snapped in annoyance, "I'm not Lestrange's friend! We barely get along. I have to spend the rest of the summer with you and him playing the third wheel because you have some problems with a boy you've never even spoken to!"

He glared at her, "I'm worried about your reputation."

"I know," she deflated at this, slouching back into the bed and sinking into the pillows Tom had propped against the headboard.

"If been very patient through this phase—" he began what sounded like the beginning of a long-winded scolding.

"Phase?" Jenny asked, sounding nonplussed.

"But this rebellious streak was getting tiresome after your interest in vegetation—"

"Herbology."

"Call it whatever you'd like. I drew the line at that mudblood, I thought you knew this. Then to see you with that _muggle_." He said 'muggle' like it was a dirty word that tasted bitter on his tongue.

"You don't have a say in my dating life," her face was hot and red.

His face was plastered with a stubborn scowl. "It's my business to protect your name. It reflects poorly on me too."

"How? It's my name, not yours!" She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth.

For a brief moment, Tom looked as though he'd been slapped, then his face constructed into an indifferent brick wall. "Your reputation will reflect on Slytherin's reputation," he answered distantly.

"Okay, no more muggles," she agreed, mostly trying to make up for her inadvertently harsh words.

"That's all I ask," he sighed as his muscles untensed.

She yawned and leaned into his shoulder, "Will you read to me? I don't want to go to bed yet, the house-elf really freaks me out."

He tsked, "I already told you they're stupid, harmless, creatures." Wrapping a warm arm around Jenny's shoulder, he pulled her against him, "I'll read for a little bit, alright?"


	21. Chapter 21

_I'm a fool, to confuse this with goodness. I am not good. I know too much to be good. I know myself. I know myself to be vengeful, greedy, secretive and sly._

 _Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye_

* * *

The day Jenny found out, she collapsed inwards on herself, folding her limbs together and settling into a tight ball, her body becoming her finest origami creation. She'd picked the tightest niche in the back garden against the hollow greenhouse, a portion was shaded by a tall maple tree where the ferns had overrun, in this patch there was a bald spot of only cool soil. The fern fronds brushed against her arms collecting fat tears as they plopped from her chin. She willed herself to sink beneath the soil, under the cool tree and remain in the quiet, eerie garden forever, never having to politely smile or nod along with anyone's suggestions, never having to listen to another voice, never having to do anything she didn't want to. Maybe in a few days or weeks or years, she'd emerge from the soil like a butterfly from a chrysalis, who she thought she was and who she knew she actually is, fully reconciled and working in harmony. She couldn't help but think it was unfair caterpillars could recreate themselves in privacy, but every other creature had to undergo the transformation in front of anyone curious enough to look.

The weather soured the longer she stayed pressed against the greenhouse. Water began misting from the sky, catching in the wind and blowing harshly against her cheeks. Her toes, fingers, nose, and heart felt like ice. An hour passed, and she only looked up when the splatter of shoes breaching puddles alerted her of someone's presence. Tom towered overhead like the maple tree, dwarfing Jenny and the ferns.

She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, her eyes slid past him to settle on the vibrant moss on the maple tree. The green padding around the trunk had come to life under the rain, making Jenny lonesome for Wool's wishing pitifully that they'd spent the summer in London, with her own garden that she could water and tend to.

"What's happened?" Tom's voice was sharp and out of place in the soggy garden among the soft foliage.

"Nothing," her voice sounded distant, like a stranger's. It frightened her.

"Obviously, it isn't 'nothing'." There was silence, and Jenny took this moment to try forcing her eyes on him again. This time they stuck, but landed on his chin, not inching high enough to see the frown pull at his lips, but it was evident in his voice when he asked, "Have you been crying?"

This question surprised Jenny, she thought she was still crying. She shook her head no, not trusting her voice.

"Did someone do something to you?"

His anger was growing, and for Lestrange's sake, she spoke this time to put a quick end to this train of thought, "No one did anything to me." Her voice sounded hoarse like she'd been screaming, and she wouldn't have been surprised if she had, if nothing else, then to match the volume her mind was screaming at.

"Is this about me being a prefect?" His voice was patronizing now, all previous concerns evaporating from his tone.

Her eyes flashed to his, and she lied, "Yes."

It felt so long ago now, it had escaped her mind he'd been given his prefect badge only that morning. Lestrange, Tom, and Jenny had all been seated around the table eating breakfast when an owl swooped in with three envelopes tied to its leg. Jenny and Lestrange received thin identical letters, but Tom's letter was different.

Tom pulled the badge from the envelope, and the shimmering golden metal caught Lestrange's eye first, "Brilliant!"

This drew Jenny's attention from the supply list she'd been studying dully. She gasped, "Are you bloody joking?"

Tom smirked and gave a small shrug like he'd known all along he was going to be a prefect. "I just hope my duties don't keep me too busy from my extracurriculars."

With a snigger, Lestrange warned Jenny, "Better not go out after hours anymore, he can hunt you down himself now."

She rolled her eyes and poked at a sausage on her plate, skewering the middle and taking a large bite. After she swallowed, she said, "I wonder who the girl prefect is." She had hoped the bite would give her enough time to quell her frustration, but her voice wasn't as casual as she'd anticipated.

"Jealous?" Tom purred, self-satisfaction was rolling off him in waves that made her nauseous.

"No," her tone sounded too firm to lend itself to the lie.

Lestrange spoke quietly from behind his large cup of coffee, "Prefect isn't a suitable role for you, Endall. It's meant to be a protector position, something dangerous, not for the gentler sex."

He wasn't trying to make her mad, she knew this, he was only trying to keep the peace and act as the host, but her temper flared. "Dangerous? At Hogwarts?" She punctuated her words with a scornful laugh. "I don't even want to be a prefect, it's a fake title for gits to strut around with and play pretend. That being said, there are two prefects, a boy, and a girl, so the role is obviously for the 'gentler sex'—"

"Not pureblood ladies," Tom chastised, speaking over her rant.

"I wasn't talking to you," Jenny snapped, then stormed from the dining room with angry tears welling in her eyes.

It had been the last time she'd seen Tom and Lestrange that day, so it was an easy, believable lie.

"You don't need to be a prefect," Tom assured her, snapping her back to the present. "I thought it didn't impress you that much anyway."

"You're right," she stood, taking the hand Tom offered and tried to balance on her shaky legs. "It's stupid to get bent out of shape about."

He nodded noncommittally and suggested, "You should take a shower, you're filthy."

Jenny looked down and blinked unsurprised at the leaves and grass that stuck to her ankles. She agreed with a small bob of the head, the hair stuck to her cheeks moved with her.

At Wool's, there was always someone in a rush to get in the bathroom or no hot water. At Hogwarts, the bathrooms felt too communal. She relished in the private moments the Lestrange guest bathroom lent her. She turned the hot water all the way up, and steam pooled in the shower almost immediately. The water pelted her in hot beads until her fingertips turned to soft prunes.

Once out of the shower and wrapped in a thick snow-white towel, she lingered in the bathroom, standing in front of the fogged-over mirror tracing patterns. Each loop revealing a portion of face, or arm, or hair, until finally fully revealing a soggy girl, wrapped in a white towel. Jenny moved her hand to a hairbrush, and the girl copied the action. The two girls stared at each other and brushed their damp hair in silence.

The sound of bristles threading through now nearly-dry hair was interrupted when a knock echoed through the bathroom. Jenny placed the brush down, pulled her towel tighter around her body, then cracked the door open, "Yes?"

"You've been in there a while." The 'What were you doing?' Or 'Are you okay?' That would typically preface or follow the statement was left unspoken between them as Tom stared her down.

"I was merely enjoying my privacy. It's rare."

"Are you still upset about not being a prefect?"

"No, I'm upset you won't allow me to shower in private."

He rolled his eyes and pushed away from the door frame to the bathroom he'd been leaning on. "I'm still going to find time for you."

That was a concern she had before, when the day was still young. The prickly worry filled her stomach again, and it was a welcomed distraction.

"You barely saw me before, when it was just your Knights of Walpurgis club."

"But, I still managed to make time for you, and I'm a competent person, Jenny." His smugness dripped from every word.

If she didn't feel so emotionally drained, she would like to imagine her reply would have been biting and sarcastic. Instead, the words that plopped from her tongue echoed her most recent concerns. "What do you think happens when a person kills someone?" Her voice sounded numb as she forced the emotion from her face.

"Where's this question coming from?"

She stared at Tom's face, but his expression was blank, giving her nothing to work with, so she just shrugged, "I don't know, it's just something I've been wondering."

"Most people wonder what happens when they die," Tom commented, a spark of dry humor in his words.

"I guess. It's just," Jenny tried desperately to sound like she didn't care, "are they the same afterward?"

"I'd imagine so. It's not like they are altering themselves, only someone else."

"Do you think that's really it?"

It seemed unlikely, she felt like she was marred or sullied, even though she hadn't actually known until now. Similar to when you notice a scratch on a mirror or a unique freckle on someone's face for the first time, it couldn't be unseen. And like eyes automatically tracing a jagged line across the mirror face, her mind automatically traced the memory of what she had done.

She had stormed off and immediately felt childish as she quickly swiped at her teary eyes with her wrist. The manor was large with corridors that ran into each other and doubled back. Tom or Lestrange usually lead her through them, she'd tried to get her bearing, but the halls were all too uniform. The quest for the library was fruitless. In desperation, she began opening random doors and peering in, hoping to be greeted by the familiar aroma of old books and leather.

The eleventh door Jenny opened had bookcases jammed with worn, ragged books. She breathed a sigh of relief and felt a little proud that she'd found the library without help, although it was a different entrance than what she was used to, making the layout of the library a bit unfamiliar looking. It didn't occur to her that this room might not be the library until she came to a dead end. A back corner of the room had a large desk, sacked with dishes and books. The desk was facing a wall, or rather a blanket hooked to the wall where some light was streaming out from under, leading Jenny to assume a window was being concealed behind it. Hooking over the desk was a man, his hair drooping loosely to the book he was hunched over.

An audible gasp came from Jenny's parted lips as she realized this was Lestrange's father's study. Mr. Lestrange craned his neck to look at her, his eyes sunken and bruised with bags.

"I'm sorry!" Jenny stuttered out apologetically. "I thought this was the library. I'll leave."

She'd turned to flee, but his voice was soft, almost a whisper as he stopped her. "It's alright, it's alright. Ms. Endall, was it?"

"Yes, sir," she tried with wide eyes to convey she'd made an honest mistake.

"Have a seat," he pulled a wooden stool forward, the books piled on top swayed dangerously with the movement. With a quick swoop of his wand, they levitated onto the floor next to the desk.

Jenny sat beside him obediently, mumbling a quick thank you, not wanting to offend the host more than she already had.

"It's been a long time since I've had company in here," his voice was warm with fond reminiscence. Age beyond his years wrinkled his brow with thought, "You're the last of the Endall family."

It wasn't a question, but she politely smiled and nodded, throwing in a, "Unfortunately, sir."

"I knew your parents, you and your siblings too, before the fire." He shook his head, freeing himself of whatever thoughts had accompanied that sentence. "You're parents— your mother was very unconventional; she rubbed off on your father. I swear, every time I had them over for dinner or a holiday, it was like they were speaking in their own coded language. Half the conversations were unspoken between them, they left everyone else to catch up." His voice was low and ragged as he spoke about holidays, dinners, and events that he had seen and met with her parents before she even existed. For a moment, she saw a smiling, large family lingering in the blacks of his eyes and all of the lives she could've led and the moments she had lost played like a movie on a burnt roll of film.

When he changed topics, it was abrupt, and she knew what he was going to start speaking about, his voice cracked as he said, "Julia— My wife— was a fan of your parents. She always had a large heart for the eccentric types. She was heartbroken the day she found out about the fire, I was the first to tell her. I worked at the Ministry at the time. I still do."

"Heartbroken," he repeated this like he was re-centering his thoughts. "The whole situation tore her apart. The Ministry had to come down and put out the fire. Muggles didn't know what hit them. It was too strong, too powerful. They launched an investigation afterward to figure out why there was a fiendfyre. We thought someone was out to get your parents or your family. The investigation came up fruitless, whoever caused that fire didn't face their day in court, and I'm sorry about that."

"Did you ever get any leads," she choked out.

"No, no," he answered. "In the end, it was concluded to be a case of accidental magic. They figured your mum or dad likely did it in their sleep; it was too advanced for your brother or sister. A real shame."

Jenny was sitting stiff, udder horror wracked through her in small shivers down her spine as the pieces fell into place. If it had shown on her face, he didn't pay any mind as he continued speaking in the same soft, monotonous voice about the Ministry. Even with the disgust and hatred she felt towards herself, one bitter thought still surfaced at the forefront of her mind: Tom was so worried about the muggles taking her away when he should really be concerned about the Ministry. She mulled over the odds that they would lock her away if they ever realized it was her. Sure it had merely been a case of accidental magic, but it was accidental magic that killed her entire family. Then a darker thought entered her head as she remembered it wasn't accidental magic though, there were a few things she was sure about from the night she lost her parents: it was Christmas Eve, she snuck out of bed, lit the fire, and then she was sent to Wools indefinitely.

So, was it really true that she wasn't any different than someone who hadn't kill their whole family?

"Of course, Jenny," Tom huffed, starting to sound annoyed. "What's this even about?"

She could feel hot, frothy bile inching up her throat. She didn't mean to kill her family, but she had caused them to die. A part of her always thought it was just how her brain handled the survivor's guilt. Now she'd hide information about that night because this indeed was more than survivor's guilt. She was guilty.

"It's about nothing. I was just thinking out loud."

"Thinking out loud?" He repeated skeptically.

"Yes, I just wanted your opinion on it, but now I can see that it was foolish. Silly me!" She shoved him lightly, pushing the center of his chest with the hand that wasn't clutching the towel to her body. "Get out."

He regarded her with an expression of confused horror, as though he thought she'd completely lost her mind. "Jenny, I—"

"Tom Riddle, get out of this room!" She demanded again, considering for a moment if her mind had snapped under the strain of this new information.

"Not until you explain what's going on," he looked furious now. Likely because he's not used to being the one getting bossed around and pushed.

"I want to change out of this sodding towel."

He looked down, and his normally ashen face flared into a light pink as he realized for the first time that she was still wrapped in a towel from her shower. Jenny looked down too and her sternum heated to a bright red. Her blush crawled up her neck and covered her face, embarrassment donning on both of them.

Tom recovered first, his face was pale again and Jenny wondered briefly if the pink tint had merely been a reflection of color from her own skin. "Get some clothes on. This conversation isn't finished."

She slammed the door behind him and dressed quickly, shoving her arms and legs in the first article of clothing her fingers caught. Unable to bear another look into the mirror at her family's killer, she bolted from the guest wing of the manor. The only care she had was avoiding Tom, he could read her expressions so well, it was almost unnerving.

She was standing in the foyer, still utterly vexed by the layout of the house. This time, rather than wandering aimlessly, she gritted back her discomfort and called out, "Madky?"

There was a crack, and the small house-elf appeared in front of her, already plunging into a deep bow. "Madky is here, miss."

"Right," she hesitated as the house elf's bulging marbles of eyes watched her dutifully. "Er— the library." Its eyes lit up and nodded. With the small notion of encouragement, she continued more confidently, "Yes, the library, take me there."

She should have been more precise because the house-elf bounded over to her cheerfully and grabbing her wrist. "Yes, miss!"

The immediate protest she began was cut off as the elf apparated them both to the center of the library. Her stomach swirled at the suddenness, and she was grateful that the last meal she'd eaten was so long ago because the brief nausea was overwhelming.

"No, no, no," she snapped angrily, "I meant walk me here. Honestly! At any rate, a little forewarning would have been nice."

Madky whimpered a little apology, then a grand wail tore from his throat as he fled the room. "Foolish Madky, useless Madky," echoed down the hall.

"Oops," she breathed, remembering Lestrange's warning about Madky's criticism issues.

She let her fingers trail along the book spines as she skimmed them. The library was filled with heaps upon heaps of knowledge, ranging from potions to arithmancy to history. Still, her frustration grew, and she looked over the final shelving of books.

"Bloody rubbish," her foot swung out and kicked the trimming along the bottom of the bookcase. A dull thud and a shudder of dust paired the outburst.

"Looking for anything in particular?" She started at the sound of Lestrange's voice.

"I didn't realize anyone else was here. I thought you would be with Tom," her question remained unspoken as she glanced around Lestrange.

He shrugged and offered, "I think he's holed up in his room. Said not to bother him."

Jenny nodded and slid her gaze back to the spines of books. The last section she had to comb over was a Herbology section, and she knew what she wanted wasn't in there, but she pretended to look it over.

The flooring creaked as he came to stand beside her, and he mirrored her actions, staring at the books with interest. He leaned back on the balls of his feet and said, "I could help if you'll let me."

She glanced at him. The apprehension must have been evident on her face because he gave her a small smile, different from the usual arrogant ones that were customarily fixed on his lips.

"I don't know."

"It's only logical. I grew up with this library. I can save you a headache."

"Fine." She bit her lip, still unsure if her question could give her away. "I was looking for old newspaper articles or clippings."

His brow furrowed with thought, "How old?"

"From when my parent's estate was burned down," she set her shoulders and kept her voice stiff, not wanting to give any hint of emotion.

Lestrange looked a little lost in thought, "Father keeps most news articles in his study, but he should have some clipping about it. Mum was apparently torn up about your parents. I don't really remember, too young." He hesitated for a moment then said, "I could talk to him, to see if I can borrow them for you."

Her heart thudded, the last thing she needed was Mr. Lestrange to figure out what she'd done. "No, no. That's alright, I'll wait until we go back to school. Hogwarts will probably have a more complete collection anyway."

The tension on Lestrange's face visibly lessened when Jenny rejected his offer. He nodded and said halfheartedly, still playing host, "Are you sure? It's not a problem at all."

"I'm sure. Really, it's not even that long of a wait anymore."

He nodded, and they stood awkwardly in the middle of the library useless Herbology books sitting in front of them like a monument to defeat.

"Lestrange?" She began, unsure of herself.

"Yes?" He answered.

"Remember when we got mead from your dad's cellar?" He nodded, and Jenny continued, "Do you think he'd noticed if a few more bottles went missing?"

Lestrange appeared younger, as the years of polished, pureblood, discipline broke, "I don't think so."

He led them to the cellar. It was a cool, damp, dim room, with shelves of wine racks and barrels of aged beer and mead. They eventually found themselves in a stupor at the foot of a wine rack, giggling as Lestrange explained how he'd accidentally offended an uptight man at an event his mother and father had hosted years ago. Jenny took another swig of her wine bottle, feeling reminisce of a pirate and wondering briefly if building sandcastles was actually something she'd be interested in. The tangy bitter bite at the back of her throat made her mind float into the middle of a tranquil ocean. She thought for a moment about her parents- her brother- her sister, but before she could feel bad for herself, or guilty, or ashamed, her mind bobbed into a comfortable empty space, creating a small ripple and making her crave another pirate-y swig. The cycle continued until there was the telltale thud of feet along the wooden stairs to the cellar.

"Is that your father?" Jenny asked Lestrange in a panic, her voice was too loud to be a whisper, and it reverberated through the cellar, making the slur in her words more pronounced.

"Bloody hell, I don't know," Lestrange said with panic growing in his voice. His normally posh accent had melted into something thicker, almost cockney. Jenny giggled at his voice, in spite of the situation.

The hollow thud of shoes against wood transformed into a muted thump, whoever it was, was approaching quickly and was now walking on the stone flooring that lined the cellar.

"We can ask the house-elf to take us away," she looked to Lestrange for approval, but he was gathering empty bottles in a panic. "He's very good at that," she noted bitterly, remembering the house elf's surprise apparition. Then with a shudder, as that memory reminded her of even more unpleasant things from that day, she quickly brought the wine bottle up to her mouth again.

Her gulp was cut short as Lestrange plucked the bottle from her hands. She gasped and sputtered indignantly, "I'm not done with that!"

"Yes, you are."

Her heart sank when the voice that answered her wasn't Lestrange or his father, but, "Tom," Jenny began, desperately searching for an excuse.

But it wasn't her Tom was looking for answers from. His glare was lethal and only for Lestrange as he said in almost a whisper, "Explain."

There was silence. Not exactly silence. Jenny could hear bellow Lestrange's panicked stutters the sound of water plopping into some distant, hidden puddle. If she strained, she could hear the sound of a fire crackling. She desperately longed for a fireplace to warm her fingers on, the cellar was freezing.

"I said, explain. Not babble incoherently." Tom snapped, pulling Jenny's mind back from the center of her own personal ocean.

"My Lord, I'm sorry I don't know how this happened. She wanted to and I—"

"What did I say about using that in front of her."

"I— I'm sorry, m- Tom. I'm sorry, Tom."

"I asked him to let us drink a little. Stop being a git and be mad at me if you want someone to be mad at," Jenny cut in, her voice was nearing a whine.

"I am mad at you, too, but he should know better." Tom lunged forward, grabbing Jenny by the wrist and pulling her up off the floor. He released her wrist then took two calculated steps towards Lestrange and pointed an accusing finger at him, "We'll discuss this later."

"Come off it. It was just a bit of fun," she tried to sound nonchalant.

As Tom whipped around to glare at Jenny, the room spun and made her reach out for balance. Unfortunately, her hands grabbed a stool and the handle to a broom. The broom clattered to the ground quickly, leaving her off balance. She toppled the same direction the broom fell and ended up on the ground, the stool getting dragged down alongside her with a loud crash.

"Merlin," Tom groaned.

"Oops."

"Madky," Lestrange finally called.

The house-elf appeared with a crack, and it's innocent eyes widened at horror at the mess. "Yes, young master?"

"Assist Endall to bed."

"Right away." Madky pranced towards her, and she immediately began moaning in protest.

"Madky, no." Tom interjected, stepping between the house-elf and Jenny, "She won't be needing your help."

The house-elf left out a small dejected whimper, and Lestrange suggested quietly, "Why don't you help me clean up down here instead, Madky?"

Jenny stared at the house elf's tilted form as it perked up from the suggestion. Her cheek was press to the chilled floor, and she felt secure. Briefly, she wondered if this was how a caterpillar felt within a chrysalis. Hands-on her upper arms hoisted her up, her eyes snapped over to the owner of the hands, and she saw Tom, his brows furrowed with anger, and his mouth set in a discontent grimace.

He'd pulled her nearly upright, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, causing them both to sway from the sudden change in weight. "I'm sorry," she muttered into his neck.

"You're not the only one at fault," he said stiffly, and his hand found the small of her back, patting her in a way that would have been awkward if she was sober, but she didn't care.

She pulled away from him as quickly as she hugged him. "I'm cold," a small shiver jumped through her spine as though to emphasize her point.

Tom didn't say anything as he began towing her out of the cellar by her wrist. When they breached the door and entered the bright kitchen, she would have sworn she her him tut under his breath, "Can't even turn my back for a second."

Jenny didn't comment on this instead, she pointed towards the small fireplace in the kitchen, "Let's sit by the fire."

"There's a bigger fire going in the parlor, come along," he gave her arm a sharp tug towards a door, and she stumbled alongside him passively.

The parlor was large and had a thick rug separating old, sun-bleached couches from the marble flooring. The room glowed in orange light, and Jenny realized that it was night.

She spoke to Tom in a startled whisper, "We forgot about the blackout!"

"We don't have to worry about that here. Remember? They have a disillusionment charm around the manor. Besides, it's a muggle worry, something we won't have to think twice about when we're older."

"Mrs. Cole says that the war will be over soon, then we won't have to worry."

His voice was dark, "Mrs. Cole says a lot of things that you shouldn't take seriously."

Jenny shook her head at Tom absent-mindedly, "I think you have a problem with authority figures."

"Forgive me for not taking your words into consideration when you smell like a winery."

Silence settled between them, the crackle of the fire was the only noise that filled the parlor, and Jenny sat on the hearth dangerously close to the grate that held back dancing flames.

"I killed them."

With amusement, Tom asked, "Who?"

"My parents. My family. I killed them."

"I believe we went over this already when we first introduced ourselves," his voice was patronizing now.

"I always thought it was my fault, but it never really clicked until—" she broke off, tears thick in her throat. Swallowing back a sob, she focused her gaze on the glowing embers at the base of the flames and whispered, "Merlin, Tom, I really killed them."

"Until what?" His voice was commanding and full of suspicion now. "Does this have something to do with why I found you by the greenhouse this afternoon?"

"I went into Mr. Lestrange's study by mistake. He was there. He told me— he said—" Hot tears began burning tracks along her face.

Tom was no longer a voice seated behind her, he'd moved into a crouch next to her, "What did he say?"

"The Ministry had to put out the fire. It was a fiendfyre. They launched an investigation and couldn't find anyone. What if one day they figure out it was me?"

"How do you know it was you?"

"I thought it was just a dream or something like survivors guilt manifesting itself in a weird way, but I lit the candles on the Christmas tree."

"I don't—"

Jenny cut off Tom's dismissal, "It was Christmas Eve, no one else would have lit them. How else would an out of control fire start? From a fireplace? I've been sitting on this hearth for how long? The fire has popped at least a dozen times, and not a single ember has touched me. My parent's manor would've had enchanted fireplaces too. What did you say earlier, the blackout is a muggle worry. I bet if we ask any wizard, they would agree a house fire is a muggle worry!" Sobriety was crashing down on her as the panic began to mount.

"Maybe it was you. So what."

"So what?" Her panic was replaced with confusion, and she felt nauseous.

"My being born killed my mother. Maybe it's just in our nature."

She liked that. Tom grouping them together. It felt like so long since they had been considered as a whole. A unit. Ever since they got older, there was always something dividing them: him being a prefect, her being a lady, them both being different, yet Tom still being more special than her.

"In our nature," she echoed sounding like a hollow cavernous cave spitting words back out without thought.

He must've taken this as confirmation that she agreed, because he patted her arm and suggested, "Will you get off the floor now?"

She nodded dumbly, because what else was there to do. "I feel ill."

"You should. You drank too much."

She wanted to disagree, say that it wasn't the wine, but she nodded again like she'd become possessed by an agreeable ghost.

He walked them to the guest wing, with Jenny clinging to his arm like a lifeline. Opening the door to her bedroom, he watched as she crawled into bed, still wearing her day clothes. Before he pulled the door closed, he said, "Oh, and Jenny?"

There was a sleepy hum, to show she was listening.

"Let's keep this between you and me."

She wasn't sure if he meant the drinking or her past, but either way, she answered with a soft, "Okay."

* * *

 **AN** : Howdy folks! It's been a second since the last update. I've had this is written for a while, but only now got around to getting it edited. My absence this month is due to Nanowrimo, this fanfiction was placed on a back burner temporarily while I worked on that. My nanowrimo this year a Twilight mafia AU fanfiction that will start getting published sometime in January or February (depending on how long the editing gets delayed).

 **This fanfiction will resume its normal bi-weekly update schedule on either Dec 6th or 20th** (depending on life)


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